


Rat's Gold

by Arianwen44



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:05:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 71,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianwen44/pseuds/Arianwen44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thieving has its pros and cons, it's losses and it's gains.<br/>Aria has been a master thief for a long time, used to failure, but even more used to success. Her heart set on an impossible treasure, a terrible adventure and dangerous obstacles, she can't help but jump at the chance. </p><p>Though thieving always comes with a price, and so do riches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Faceless

Several feet of black stretched in front of her eyes, blacker than ebony cloth it was unfathomable and thick as molasses. A cold chill ran down her spine and made her shiver, yet there shouldn’t have been any wind here at all, she was too far down. It was impossible. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had ended up down here, it was more than an hour, less than a day at least. Her wrists hurt from where the shackles chaffed and rubbed at her thin skin, and her throat was parched and dry from lack of water. She licked her dry, cracked lips and sighed, her breath rattling through her chest like a wind through a dry desert. Her stomach complained about being empty, but she silenced it with a short growl.

It wouldn’t be long now.

She could hear the scratching of small claws all around her, yet the vermin left her alone, for even though she was where she was, she could still blend with the shadows easily. The cold stone floor beneath her felt solid and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and urine with the faintest smell of brine. That was all she needed to know.

It wouldn’t be long now.

She soon heard a faint sound ahead and to her right. It was high up and metallic and sounded much like hundreds of little tiny keys clinking and jingling together, which was what they were. There was the sound of keys being shoved into a lock and the lock turning with a click, before a door opened and light flooded the chamber before her from a solid, fixed point. The torchlight flickered from above, the outline of a figure appeared down the stairs and across the floor beside her cell. She could hear frantic steps rushing down the stairs and a lithe figure appeared in front of her cell, the bars dividing up his figure as he approached.

“Really boss? The dungeons as a meeting place? You really enjoy theatrics too much,” said the voice of the figure, he was a small man wearing dark leather armor and soft boots. A hood covered his face, but she already knew him just by the way he moved.

She rose and the shackles fell away, “They really think I’m some petty thief, it’s quite funny actually,”

“Then you got it?” the man asked excitedly.

She laughed huskily as the man opened the cell door and she stepped out, moving like a cat, “Honestly, you question my abilities?” she held up a scroll in her hand, in the dim light it was decorated with jagged runes that seemed incomprehensible to a normal eye. “Like taking candy from a baby,”

“Yeah well let’s get out of here before that baby wakes up and starts wailing,” he motioned for her to follow him.

She blinked, “He hasn’t figured out what I stole yet? It’s been forever!” the both of them chuckled as they left the dungeon.

“You’re only the best, come now, can’t give your faithful any credit?” he laughed as they both left, creeping along the hallways and up into the torch lit castle above. They left the barracks and snuck out through the window onto a balcony, all the guards were either dead or knocked unconscious, mainly the latter. The two moved, silent as death, across the balcony and the woman glanced over the side and down to the road below. Underneath them was a thick ivy cluster snaking all the way down to the bushes underneath them, two horses stood in the shadows, quietly waiting for the two of them.

“Ah, I can always count on you Alrik, you always have a quick getaway planned,” she smirked and he bowed mockingly as they climbed down the side of the wall and into the bushes. She looked across the road before leaping into the saddle, her companion doing the same. They reined in their mounts and galloped into the night, both smiling in exhilaration.

Their victory only lasted a few moments, before they rounded a corner and spotted a large squad of men on horseback with torches stretched across the road. Their imperial armor glinting in the firelight, along with their drawn swords, axes and bows, and their obnoxious smirks.

“Going somewhere, thieves?” said the captain, smirking as he spurred his horse forward, “Get them!”

The two thieves doubled back, their horses whinnying in protest and turning about to race the other way. Yet they only got a little ways before they were met with a second squad of archers, firing arrows at them on the other side of the road.  
  
The woman’s horse reared, screaming in surprise and her companion turned about, panic on his face as he glanced at her. “Run! Get off and run!” Just as he was swinging off, an arrow whistled through the air and landed in his chest, piercing his leather armor with the impact and landing with a dull thud. He stared at it in shock, before doubling over with a gasp.

Swinging down, the female ran to him, “Alrik!”

“Don’t—ah! Don’t you dare! G-get out! Go!” he gasped, drawing his sword as two more arrows landed in his leg, making him scream in pain.

“Run them down! Run them down!” shouted the captain as the other squad of swordsmen rode around the corner.

“Go! You make sure you spend some of that treasure for me!” Alrik smirked as he pushed the woman aside and into the bushes, running at the squad of men. She stumbled back as an arrow pierced her side and she fell down the side of the mountain, the thick bushes hiding her in shadow as she fell. Alrik ran at the men, his sword raised as he dragged his wounded leg behind him. The squad of men charging at him with their swords at the ready and their horses foaming and yanking on the reins.   
  
He had no chance.

The last thing she remembered was Alrik, trampled and beaten on the road, stuck full with three more arrows, one protruding from his throat and causing thick blood to ooze terribly through the wound. That was the last she remembered, before the world fell away, and so did she.


	2. The Thing About Rats

“Aria! Miss Aria!” She heard someone calling for her and felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. It took a moment before her blue eyes snapped open and she whipped a knife out, pressing to the other person’s throat as she grabbed their shoulder.

The other yelped and stiffened, “Hey, boss, I’d rather keep my blood _inside_ my body, please. I don’t need an extra breathing hole,” he smiled nervously at her.

Aria relaxed her body slightly as she realized that the man was one of her subordinates who worked as a guard for her, she sighed and sheathed the blade as she turned her cold eyes up at him, “And what the hell are you doing in my quarters? Really Ethos, does the door have a sign on it that says ‘All Are Welcome! Please Come in and Help Yourself’?”

He shook his head, backing away towards the door, “N-no ma’am, sorry, it’s just… just…” he fidgeted with his cuirass and one of the buckles on his belt.

Her expression turned to annoyance, “Well? Spit it out skeever breath, I don’t have all day,”

“Well we were afraid that you were having a fit, what with today being what it is—”

“Enough! I wont have any of your measly little excuses. Get back to your patrol and don’t let me catch you or any of your comrades in here again, or so help me you’ll either find yourselves locked up for life or tanning in a leather rack, do I make myself clear?” Aria snapped, sending the man backwards slightly.

“Yes ma’am!” he nodded and scurried from the room, leaving Aria to herself with the shutting of a wooden door.

She sat up in bed, scratching her eyes of sleep as she finally relaxed her shoulders. It was a few moments before she looked out her window, soft light of the early morning crept into the chamber as the sun rose. She sighed as a heavy weight settled on her shoulders; she leaned forward and rubbed her temples to calm herself.

It had been ten years, and still the sting wouldn’t go away.

Aria shook herself again and rose, she walked to her washbasin and splashed her face to clear her head from the terrible dream. She leaned against the basin and stared at the reflection in her dusty mirror, the pale woman that stared back looked back at her. Aria’s hard blue eyes gazed back, framed by her dark auburn hair, a single braid falling from the side of her head to rest over her left ear. A long scar stretched vertically over her left cheek beneath her eye, covered by a red tattoo that resembled an upside down wing.

She straightened herself, dressing in her normal leathers and clipping the belts of her nightingale armor over her body, pulling up her mask over her face, resting it on the bridge of her nose. She looked again into the mirror, her body lean and lithe as a cat. She turned once and nodded, before throwing her cloak over her shoulders and strapping her blade to her belt.

She didn’t care what day it was. Today was today and that was it.

 

* * *

 

Aria crept along the lower docks in Riften, her ears and eyes now open in the clear, early morning air. She listened all around, hearing the sounds of bartering merchants above in the town square, the banging and clanging of metal in the blacksmith’s shop, even the sounds of the water below the docks of the lakeside town. She glanced back, her eyes the only things visible beneath her black hood and mask as she looked about, before ducking down into the Ratway. She could have gone the secret way through the graveyard, but somehow Aria enjoyed walking through the dark sewer path. The rats all gave her a wide berth, yet they followed her on her way, her presence nearly invisible as she walked alone through the dim light.

The sounds of running water streaming through the sewers and the scuttle of the rats in the Ratway calmed her slightly, making it easier for her to focus. Aria rounded a corner through the dripping stone arches and stepped down into the Ragged Flagon, moving through that silently and nodding when other thieves would acknowledge her passing.

She moved through to the Cistern, crossing the center-arched pathways towards the desk and the tribute chest. Aria drew her hood and mask back as she finally relaxed; she then moved to look at her plan book, looking at all the heists they had done in the past few weeks. The guild was bringing in a steady flow of coin, and trade couldn’t have been better, but somehow it just wasn’t enough. Aria felt incomplete, like something was missing. Flipping through the book she sighed and knelt down to look through some of her scrolls of plans, maybe there would be some heist she could think about to take off the edge of the day.

She suddenly heard the clearing of a throat and looked up, standing before the desk she saw one of the thieves of the guild, a young khajiit, her hood down and her black fur and markings making her clear eyes stand out as she looked at the human. Aria raised an eyebrow and rose to stand, leaning both hands on the table as she looked at the other thief.

“Well Za’jir? What brings you here?” Aria’s auburn hair remained tied back for now, the braid at her left temple dangling down beside her ear.

The khajiit flicked her ear as she grinned and handed Aria a note, “Just a letter, Miss Aria,” her accent was heavy and rolled off her tongue with a purr, “The courier said it was important that I give it to you personally,”

Aria frowned and took the letter, rolling it over in her hands as she inspected it for any possible hidden traps. Finding none she broke the wax seal and unfurled the letter and glanced over it with a curious look in her eye.

 

_Nightingale,_

_The quest for gold is never over, and in this case, it’s just beginning.  
The Winking Skeever, four days. Corner table, ask for wine._

_The Crimson Coyote_

Aria nearly dropped the letter, her blue eyes going wide as she stifled any other kind of reaction. Instead she just stared incredulously at the parchment in her hand, remaining silent for a good few minutes before she glanced up. Za’jir was still standing in front of her with an expression of concern.

“Get me Brynjolf, immediately. If he’s doing something then tell him to drop what he’s doing and come see me,” She looked back at the letter, trying to discern whether or not it was a fake. This was the position that Brynjolf found her in when he finally appeared before the desk, Aria hadn’t even moved, her eyes glazed as she stared at every inch of the letter. She looked up as he approached and shoved the parchment to him, “Look at that, Bryn, and tell me that it’s not real, that it’s a fake and that I can toss it into the fire and burn it,”

The man in front of her frowned and picked up the letter, reading it over. With each moment he took to read his expression changed to match hers. His gray-green eyes tracing over the letter a few times before he finally shook his head, “I can’t say lass, it looks pretty damn legitimate,”

“That’s what scares me Bryn! It can’t be him! Didn’t he vanish? Has he suddenly… I don’t know, come back from hiding to send me creepy messages?” Aria stared at the man incredulously as he scratched his auburn beard thoughtfully.

“Really lass, I have no idea,” he looked at her, “And he wants to meet in Solitude? Shall I send a footpad to go and check things out? I know how much you… dislike going there, after Alrik—”

“No!” she snapped back at him a little too quickly, “Sorry, but no. I need to go there myself and make sure, with my _own_ eyes, that this really is Coyote, and not some trick,”

“If it is a trick, though, what if they catch you?” Brynjolf inclined his head; “You know that catching the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild would put a nice big jewel in their treasury, a big feather in their hat,” he raised an eyebrow but she shook it off.

“I know, Bryn, but really I’ll be fine,” she sighed and ran a hand over her face, before looking back at the letter, Brynjolf had placed it back on the table before her.

He nodded and shrugged at the same time, “Alright, but be careful alright? We don’t want our best to end up in Solitude prison because Crimson Coyote is somehow back in business,”

Aria smirked and pulled her hood back up and replaced her nightingale mask, “Come on Brynjolf, it’s me we’re talking about, I can handle any dog that comes my way.”

 

* * *

 

Aria arrived in Solitude around sunset about four days later, her hood drawn and her stance wary. She was sure most of the guards wouldn’t recognize her, the last time she was here she had been a whole lot different. The last time she was there she had been young and stupid, and it had cost her a friend.

She shook herself inwardly, her mind set on the task ahead as she ignored her brooding and set off towards the Winking Skeever, the letter in her pocket and her eyes hard. Inside it was warm and filled with dim, smoky light, her cloak behind her feeling overly warm with her hood and mask. She kept both on, moving over to the far corner table where she saw another cloaked figure with his head bent over a bowl of stew. When Aria sat down across from him she leaned on the table and crossed a leg over the other, her blue eyes unreadable.

“I hear the wine here is spectacular, what do you think about getting some with me?” she paused, waiting for his answer.

There was a silence between them, and Aria feared she had the wrong man, “I would Nightingale, but mead is always my preferred drink, provided you have enough gold,”

Her eyes widened only slightly, Aria leaned forward a little, eyes suspicious, “Coyote?”

The man slid his wrist across the table towards her, “Why don’t you search me and find out if I have what you’re looking for, milady?”

Aria suddenly whipped out her dagger and held it to the man’s throat, knocking over his flask of mead and her chair while she pushed back the other’s hair only a smidgen, keeping him immobile. Her eyes caught the flash of a red tattoo over a blind eye, just before she turned back and smiled to the rest of the inn, all eyes turned on her and the man.

“Getting a little handsy there, weren’t you old man? Watch where you’re touching next time,” she pulled back her knife and righted her chair, before sitting down again. The rest of the inn went back to it’s merrymaking while she looked over at Coyote.

“By the nine, you didn’t have to knock over my drink… I meant what I said you know,” he picked up his flask and motioned for the bartender to bring him another.

“Quit the small talk, is there somewhere we can speak in private?” she leaned back in her chair and glanced about. She didn’t like being out in the open, especially if they were speaking so closely about work.

Coyote nodded and got up with his mead, having finished his food he left a few septims on the table and the two of them left to a smaller room above the chatter of the inn. They sat down at a table and Coyote sighed heavily as he lowered himself into his chair and sat back. Aria realized that the man before her was a whole lot older than she remembered, then again she never knew how old the Coyote was when she knew him as a younger thief.

“So, you wanted to see me so much that you sent me some weird letter?”

The man shook his head, his hood still hiding most of his face as he sipped his mead, “Really Nightingale, I wished only to get in touch with you,” he smiled gently.

Aria looked at him curiously, “So what’s so important that I had to drop everything and come meet you in some shady corner of an inn?”

“Oh Aria, really you’re just as crabby as you were as a footpad,” Coyote dug around in his pockets for a moment, before producing a scroll and a small book bound in dark leather. He placed the items on the table very carefully, both of them looking incredibly old. “I think you’ll be familiar with this little thing,” he tapped the scroll with one gnarled finger.

Aria’s eyes went cold, “You brought me here to show me that cursed thing? You better get your point across in the next ten seconds Coyote, or your reappearance will be short lived,” she snarled warningly, her hand on her knife.

“Listen Aria, I know that this is going to bring up old wounds but hear me out—”

“Old wounds? You dragged me here to talk about old _wounds?”_ the woman’s patience was wearing thin. She didn’t like cryptic words and she didn’t like riddles, they always made her feel stupid and childish and she hated that.

Coyote held up his hands, “Really Aria, just hear me out!” he raised his voice a little and she paused, “That’s better, now I’ve been doing some digging about that treasure you wanted to get your sticky little paws on,”

“That treasure is a death trap, and you know it Coyote,”

“Not necessarily a death trap, I’ve been doing some research and I found a way in,” Coyote smirked and opened his book.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this, Nightingale,” she saw Coyote point to a page and saw an image of a text scribbled into the parchment.

“What is this?”

Coyote smiled a crooked smile at her, “A text, I found its location here in Solitude but, see I’m too old to go after it and the treasure. I need a strong pair of legs and good reflexes to go in after it and get the treasure. All I ask in return is a nice slice of golden pie when you come back,” he slid the book across to her and waited for her reaction.

Aria was silent, staring at the Dwemer runes on the page and the image of the text. It was drawing of a small journal, some kind of map, maybe. “So let me get this straight, you want me to do all the legwork, find this impossible Treasure of Volund-zel, and be back in time to give you a piece of it?”

The old man raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, shrugging only a little, “Well… sort-of... pretty much that’s what I’d like you to do. I can help you out a little, all I ask is a little piece of the spoils,” the man fixed his hood and held out his hands to her, “So? What do you think? All you need to do is some old-fashioned burglary for now,”

The woman stared at the page still, not moving much. She thought for a short moment, running an ebony-gloved hand over her mask. The last time she had gone after this treasure, it had cost her a comrade’s life. She didn’t like to hold onto the past, but no matter what one does, something will inevitably come back to haunt them be it something small or something like this. Aria let the silence stretch between them as she thought, her eyes now glancing between the scroll and the drawing on the page, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. It had been a long time since she had gone after something this big, the Treasure of Volund-zel was a fable among thieves, much like the Eyes of the Falmer, only this had been even bigger. The prince of the snow elves had kept all his riches in his tomb, along with half his kingdom’s wealth, which was said to be larger than the capital of Skyrim itself. Aria had dreamed of this kind of pay-day, had planned and charted her way to the ruin once she had found out about it, she had needed that scroll and had gone with Alrik and herself to retrieve it, and that’s where it ended.

She hummed and shook her head, “You know, you start talking to me about old-fashioned and I swear I’ll wipe that stupid smile off your face within seconds. Now where is this journal? You say it’s in Solitude, who has it and what can you tell me about it?”

“That’s my girl!”

 

* * *

 

 _Why in the world am I doing this? I thought I had given up on this fools gold errand? Honestly I thought it was a stupid enough decision when I went after the damn scroll, and look where that got me._ She growled to herself and clenched her fist as she reached up to grab a second hold on the stonework, _now here I am, climbing this forsaken damn tower of the damn Blue Palace in the middle of the damn night, to get a damn journal that may or may not lead me to the damn treasure._

Aria reached up again as she clambered up the side of the tower, remaining in the dark and keeping her ears open for any guards. She made it up to a window and carefully peeked in, seeing no one was there she slipped inside, quiet as a shadow.

The thief glanced around the room; it was dark and only lit by a single torch on the far wall. There was a table decorated with a plate and a candlestick, a block of cheese and a knife sitting out on the plate along with a bottle of wine. Across from that was a tall wardrobe sitting half open, an iron chest locked with a rather simple lock, and a bookcase overflowing with old and new tomes. The room was stuffy and warm, and completely deserted.

 _Good, no one here to bother me. Thank Nocturnal…_ she quietly crept towards a door and out into a hallway, the whole place completely silent as she snuck about. Down the corridor she found a set of stairs leading to the main floor, she moved like a cat and hid behind a pillar, checking the layout. Two guards walked about on the lower level, easy to take out if she used a throwing knife or two.  She analyzed the room, it was a room that the Jarl kept for her own personal library, and at the head of the room Aria could see two lanterns on either side of a small podium. On the podium was a thin; leather bound text about the width of one finger.

That was all Aria was able to see for now, as she ducked back behind the pillar as a third figure appeared near the text. This one wasn’t wearing guard armor; this man was an imperial but wearing leather armor and carrying a heavy sword on his back. His dark brown hair short and kept out of his face, and his leather armor thick but easy to move in, smart for a hired sell sword. Yet the guards didn’t seem to give him a second thought, a mercenary then.

Aria cursed and held her knife close as her eyes analyzed the room. All around the room was a long balcony that molded with the hallway. If Aria could sneak around to just above the book, she could sneak down and snatch it, knock out the mercenary, all before the guards came back to check. She would be long gone by then, with the text and off towards her riches. She had made sure that there were horses for her and her supplies all ready at the gate for her getaway, and this time she made sure no one knew of her presence in Solitude.

The thief crouched, her weight evenly distributed and her clothing making no sound along with her movements. The shadows cloaked her like a soothing blanket while she moved; she remained utterly hidden and inconspicuous. She was nearing the journal when the guards left the room to survey the lower floors, Aria waited for the mercenary to leave to look at a few books in another room, before quietly climbing down and snatching the journal with a smirk.

 _Easy as pie,_ she thought happily, her gloved hand closing around the leather journal, just as she heard the slide of metal on metal, the sound of a weapon being unsheathed. She whipped about with her dagger and faced the mercenary just as he was approaching her and the both of them froze in place.

“Put it back, thief,” the man growled, his green eyes hard as he stared Aria down, “if you do I may just be persuaded to ignore this whole fiasco and let you go, you have my word,”

Aria raised an eyebrow, her eyes the only things visible through her hood and mask as she crouched and readied herself to run. She knew that she only had a few minutes before those guards came back, so she shook her head and made to move around towards the stairs.

“Really now? Will you? Because I have a feeling you wont,” she kept the text close to her body.

“Can’t you trust someone to honor their word?”

The mercenary didn’t back down, instead he only followed her as she tried to escape. Her arms tensed while she pocketed the text and drew a second knife. “I don’t trust a sell sword to honor any word, I trust none but my own to myself if that’s what you mean,”

“Now that hurts, and I’m no sell sword!” his movements suddenly tensed, it was only a tiny movement but Aria saw it moments before the man flew at her. They met each other in a flurry of metal and cloth, Aria defending herself with her two daggers, dodging when she could and ducking as the man swung at her. “If you won’t surrender, I’ll take that back by force,” he snapped, swinging again and almost clipping Aria in the side. She stepped aside just in time to avoid the rather deadly blow and she jumped back, springing towards the steps as she tripped up the man and made him stumble back towards the podium.

Aria heard the scramble of the guards and knew she had to wrap this up quickly; she raced at the man, slamming all her weight into him and kicking out at his shins. He pulled away and she slashed at his abdomen, the man avoided it, but then knocked her feet out from under her. Aria gasped lightly when her back hit the ground and the man stood over her, his sword poised above her chest as he snatched the text back from her.

“I told you, to hand it over and I’d let you go,” he smiled, waving the book in the air. “All you care about is selling off your stolen items, gaining money for yourself and keeping yourself happy. Yet all the people who have to deal with you and your _ilk_ are stuck with the miserable tasks of hunting you down or trying to predict your next move. You _thieves_ are nothing but rats, vermin that cant ever get enough scraps to keep themselves satisfied!” he growled, lowering the blade so it rested over her heart.

The woman glared up at the man coldly, “Don’t you talk to me about honor and vermin, you’re paid for your loyalty,” Aria kicked up and knocked the man away and pulled herself up, “You don’t know anything about my ‘ilk’ as you call us, sure we’re rats, but we’re damn smart ones,”

“And you’d know about loyalty? You care only about how much gold you get in a day!” he snapped.

Aria only smirked beneath her mask, “What of you? You don’t care how much you get, dog?” she could hear the guards coming back, the man before her was too fired up that he didn’t, the rage on his face rather apparent.

He waved the text again, “I care a lot about how much I’m paid! I’ll make sure by out-witting you I’m paid far more than my original wager!” That was when the guards appeared, a small battalion of them. The three parties observed one another for a moment, the guards taking in the scene. The man talking about getting paid, while holding one of the Jarl’s priceless artifacts, while speaking to a thief.

A grin lit up Aria’s eyes and she watched as the man turned to look at the guards, who drew their swords and glared at him, “Traitor! The Jarl trusted you with guarding this place! _We_ trusted you! You’ll be hanged for this along with your accomplice!” Yet when he pointed his sword to Aria, she was gone, and the text snatched clean out of the man’s hand.

When the two looked around for her, they spotted her already up the stairs and dashing away into the shadows with a musical laugh.

“See you later boys! Thanks for the help!” and with that she dashed through the upper room and out onto the windowsill and down the side. She dashed out onto the battlements, vanishing into the dark almost completely. There was a commotion behind her, telling her that the former ‘guard’ was fending off the other guards rather desperately.

 _Oh well, it’s not my problem._ She jumped across the buildings and into the city, heading for the edge and making sure the text was secure in her armor pocket. It didn’t take long for Aria to make it to the gate, jumping over the battlements and climbing the side of the towers, up one side and down the other. The sounds of guards could be heard, but distantly only; she unraveled a rope from her many hidden pockets and lowered it down the side of the wall. She tied it off and tested the grip, before she quickly dropped down to the ground outside without even raising the guard’s suspicion. Aria then snuck through the ditch on the side of the road towards the farm on the edge of the city, slipping out the gate and jogging down to the horses.

That was when a loud cry went up from behind her and she saw the mercenary sprinting away from the city like some rabid lunatic, a group of guards bearing down on his heels just as Aria swung into the saddle of her horse.

Coyote appeared out of a shadow and frowned, “That a friend of yours?”

“None of mine,” she shrugged as she felt her heartbeat pick up. _This is not going to turn out the same as last time! I’m out of here!_ She nodded to Coyote, “I’ll send you a message when I can, walk with the shadows, friend,” she turned her two horses about.

“WAIT! DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!” she heard a shout behind her and saw the man from the tower sprinting towards her. He ran up and leapt into the second horse’s saddle just as Aria was pulling away.

“By the nine! Gods!” Aria had to calm her horse as it whinnied and reared while she spurred it forward, the other following almost immediately with the man on board.

“You got me into this mess! So you get to fix it! I bring you back and they’ll hear me out!” the former guard rode next to her, no choice but to follow because their horses were tied together.

Aria cursed and spurred her horse into the dark of the road as the guards fell away behind them, “Nocturnal save me, they don’t _care!_ Gods now I’m stuck with you. Keep your mouth shut, we need to lose them before we sort this all out!” and with that the two riders vanished into the dark, just as the snow began to fall along the road and the darkness overtook them like a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... looong chapter! 8D  
> So, updates will be slow, but hopefully frequent!
> 
> I give out a biiiig thank you to my beta reader, the most awesome person ever!


	3. The Dog and the Rat

The dark was almost completely opaque when they finally made camp a little ways outside of the town of Dragon Bridge, up in the hills where no one would see them. Aria was already in a sour mood when she tied up the horses, one eye kept on the man who had followed her. She hated the fact that the man had taken her extra horse, almost messed up her entire mission, and refused to leave her alone. Aria unrolled her sleeping roll and sat down, crossing her legs as she ate a piece of bread and a cold slice of dried fish from her bag. She didn’t make a fire, for they were still too close to Solitude for her liking, so she kept the camp dark for now; yet she could still see the man across from her easily. 

 _If this oaf hadn’t gotten in my way, I would probably be further than just outside Dragon Bridge!_ She grumbled and chewed in frustration.

“So, why did you follow me?” she looked up from her bread at the man, who was sitting across from her, his hand on his chin while he glared back at her. 

He frowned, “Are you really going to ask me that, thief? I should be asking the questions, not you,” he defensively took out his dagger and started to clean it for no reason, barely losing eye contact on Aria,

“I’m going to ask you that, and stop calling me thief! I’m a person, same as you,” snapped the woman. 

Her ‘companion’ ground his teeth, “Then tell me your name, _thief,_ ”

Aria narrowed her eyes at him, this was going to be a long night if they couldn’t get along, though she didn’t really want to get along. “Do you think that I’ve lived this long, kept myself out of jail and off the Empire’s map by giving out my name on a whim?” 

“Fine, a name for a name, Tarric Mercius. If you want me to stop calling you ‘thief’ then give me a name to call you,” he slowed his knife-cleaning with a smug smirk on his face. She didn’t say anything just yet, her body not moving an inch. She analyzed Tarric for a moment, much like a cat sizing up a dog before deciding on giving it a scratch on the nose, or turning tail and running. 

She decided she could scratch first, run later, “As I said, you think I’m going to give you my name? You’re dumber than I thought, Imperial dog,” 

He hissed, “You’re really going to try that one on me? You sound like those Nords, those who hate all but their own kin,”

Aria just laughed and ran a gloved finger across her mask, “It’s all a matter of how you look at things. I’m no prejudiced moron, but I would prefer only friends to know who I am. You can call me Nightingale for now, and that’s all I’m telling you. You’re the one that mucked up my mission and now I’m stuck dragging you around with me. Why don’t you just get lost, I don’t need extra baggage and I _really_ don’t want people compromising me, especially you,”

Tarric’s brow furrowed, “Your mission? What mission could have you stealing a grubby old text from the Jarl of Solitude?”  
  
She huffed and finished her bread and fish, before pulling up her blanket and laying back. “It’s none of your business what I stole it for, you’re not getting it back,”

He slammed his knife into it’s sheathe, “Give it back! It’s not yours and I’m not letting you leave my sight until I get it back safely to the Jarl! I need it to assure them I’m no thieving traitor, to clear my name!” 

“Are you going to give me another bout of that ‘honor’ shit? Because I’m tired and I’ve had enough of you for the night, if you want to try taking the text from me I can assure you that you’ll have an extra hole in your gut before you can even blink,” Aria snapped, her own dagger gripped at her hip. Her harsh words shocked Tarric, who leaned back where he was sitting and silenced himself. With that, Aria turned her back to him let herself rest, keeping herself half-awake and ready to react if she needed to.

Aria heard Tarric shift about for a moment, before his movements quieted and she relaxed again. She didn’t trust this man, not one bit; he had almost turned her mission into a terrible catastrophe. Aria had half a mind to get up and ditch the man here, no questions asked, but she had a feeling that the idiot would cause a loud commotion and bring every person within a mile radius running to their camp.

 _Nocturnal help me, this moron is going to cost me my treasure if I can’t shake him, but I have a feeling I wont be able to for some reason. Persistent bastard…_ before she could pursue the thought further, she dropped into a light, watchful sleep.

 

* * *

 

Aria woke in the small hours of the morning, packed up and disembarked, unfortunately with Tarric following close behind her on his horse. Aria tolerated him for now, much like a horse tolerates flies that buzz around it’s head with only a small flick of the ear or tail. It annoyed her that she couldn’t seem to bring herself to shake the man, her focus right now on getting far enough away from Solitude to be able to stop for supplies and a rest. The two of them traveled southeast for about a day, Aria keeping off of the main roads for now. She quietly flipped through the text, with Tarric glaring at her back the entire time.

The sun was reaching its zenith when they left the mountains and could see the outline of the town of Rorikstead. Aria decided she would head for it, re-supply there and take a look at the text before heading back to Riften with it to work out what to do next with Brynjolf.

“So what do you need that book for anyways?” Tarric rode up beside her as they made it to the road, finally able to look at the woman.

Aria raised her eyebrow, keeping her horse moving while she looked back at the journal, “Not your business,”

“Why did you steal it?” he leaned back in the saddle casually, his own cloak held around himself in the noonday sun.

“Is your primary goal in life just to annoy me? Because that is all you’re doing right now,” Aria snarled at him as she looked through another page, glancing up at the road ahead and behind every few moments.

Tarric shrugged and straightened his leathers, scratching his hand through his short brown hair. “I don’t know, you just seem rather cryptic about this book. I thought it was a tatty old piece of history that was just collecting dust for no reason,” 

Aria waved her free hand, “I’m not cryptic, I just don’t want to share my information with you,” 

A silence passed between them, the only sounds were that of the horses’ hooves on the road and the saddles creaking as they moved, the wind through the tall grass as they neared the flatter lands of Whiterun Hold. The sun turned the tundra-like grasslands into a golden-beige painting, dotted with small hills and brittle flowering plants. From horizon to horizon they saw were mountains rimming the bowl-like country, or at least that’s what it looked like from here.

“I was lined up for captain of the guard you know,” he said quietly.

Aria didn’t look up from the book, “Don’t care,”

Tarric growled angrily, “What? So you ruin people’s lives and you don’t care about it? How self-absorbed _are_ you thieves?”

“Watch it, dog, or I’ll make good on my promise from last night,”

“Is that all you know how to act? Threaten until people do what you say? You’re just a bag of perfect lavender now aren’t you, _Nightingale?_ ” 

Aria whipped her gaze to the man so quickly that he flinched at the sheer speed and chill of her look. “You shut your mouth right now _._ You know _nothing_ of my world. I’m not going to sob, whine and complain to get people like you to feel sorry for me! I’m going to fight each and every one of you if you’re going to _dare_ call me selfish! In my opinion, _you’re_ the selfish one. The only thing I’ve heard you talk about, the only words that have left your mouth are about you. So you got a little dirty, get over it city boy, out here there’s nothing but survival of the fittest, survival of who has the most _gold_. If you don’t have any gold, then you go under and you starve to death, simple as that. So before you open your damned mouth to complain about how you’ve lost your ‘honor’ I suggest you think _very_ carefully about what you say, and to whom.” 

Her outburst shocked Tarric, he stared after her as her horse pulled ahead and left him there. Aria ignored it when he spurred his horse forward and followed, too frustrated and angry to care that the former guard was still following her. She hated when people looked down on her, she got enough of that because she was a woman, she didn’t need any more looking at her like she was some pathetic creature beyond retribution.

 _I don’t need sympathy and I don’t need retribution, I just need respect and for people to mind their own business._ They rode on in silence after that, Aria putting away the journal while they neared Rorikstead. The sun was just starting to roll down from it’s height by the time they rode into town, Aria hitching her horse outside the inn and walking inside. Tarric followed her, not wanting to lose sight of her or the journal, and the both of them entered the Frostfruit inn. 

Aria sat down at a table near the far end and tossed a septim at the man asking her if she wanted food. She bought a flask of wine and a loaf of bread, breaking off the end of it and pocketing the rest for later. Tarric sat down next to her and looked about, at least he had kept his mouth shut after her explosion, which gave Aria a little time to think.

She flipped through the book again while she drank and ate, finding the book quite boring at a glance until she came to a page in the center. She paused at the illustration of a large door, depicting the prince of the snow elves and a large gem above his head. She didn’t understand the runes on the page above it, but knew Brynjolf would… that was until she looked below the drawing and saw, translated at the bottom, were a few words she _could_ understand.

_The Door to the Vault_

 

_Nine in all,_

_All pieces for the heart,_

_To enter mine hall_

_Or to tear you apart._

A damned riddle.

Cursing to herself, Aria slammed the small book shut and put it away. Once she had rested, Aria went about town, buying off supplies like leathers and food, things she would need to get back to Riften. She needed Brynjolf to read the riddle and decipher the rest of the book, she hated riddles and wanted nothing to do with the damned things. Instead she focused on the task at hand, resupplying and getting back to the guild was her task right now, not worrying about some stupid few lines of unclear, ridiculous poetry.

She had just finished filling up her water skin when she received a tap on the shoulder. The woman turned to face whomever was bothering her, and found herself face-to-face with a guard, his Whiterun shield almost hitting her in the face when she moved to face him. Aria jumped only a tiny bit, her eyes looking up to the man’s helmet and her eyebrow lifting ever so slightly.

“Yes? Can I help you?” she stayed calm, while her hand itched a little closer to her dagger. 

The guard motioned to Tarric, standing just a little behind him, “This man says you’ve stolen something from him. May I see your pockets miss?”

“What did he say I stole?” she crossed her arms, glaring poison at Tarric, who backed up. 

“A book. Something important to him,” the guard seemed overly annoyed out of his mind, just as Aria was.

She made a hissing noise and opened her pockets, “The only thing here is a roll of bread, no book,” she showed the guard the bread and Tarric’s face turned to disbelief, “And you can ask the boy in the inn, I _bought_ it,” 

The guard growled and nodded, turning back to Tarric and gripping him by the collar, “You’re going to waste my time with this? You stupid oaf! I should have you locked up in a stockade for this!” Aria smirked beneath her mask, good thing she had some false pockets on her, and good thing the book was so small it fit almost perfectly into one. The look on Tarric’s face was unbelievably priceless, definitely payback for messing her up.

“No! Really! I’m telling the truth! She has it in some hidden pocket somewhere! She’s a thief!” Tarric started to act frantic as the guard started to lose his patience.

“What hidden pocket? I’ve searched your lady friend already and there’s nowhere on her that she could hide a book, or are you saying she made it turn _invisible?_ ” mocked the guard as a crowd gathered around them, gawking and muttering. 

Tarric shook his head, “I don’t know! But she’s bewitched it! I’m telling you she stole it from Solitude, from the Jarl herself!”

“That little lady? She may look sinister but I think you’re imagining things,” said a farmer, “She kindly paid me for my leathers! She didn’t steal them!”

 _I paid for_ most _of them, old man. I swiped about a half a dozen more from right under your nose._ Aria couldn’t get over how good this felt, her eyes twinkling lightly and Tarric caught sight of it, and went into full-blown rage.

“You’re all fools! She’s tricked you! She’s a thief and I can prove it!” he made to storm up to Aria but the guard grabbed him by the shoulder and punched him in the face. Before Tarric could retaliate, though, he had his sword out and pointed at Tarric’s chest.

“Cause more trouble in my town, and you’ll be the new scarecrow watching the fields by the time I’m done with you,” the guard warned. Tarric swallowed and eyed the sword warily, feeling completely defeated.

Aria sighed and walked slowly through the crowd, “Now, now, enough of that boys. I’ll take this troublemaker off your hands and we can avoid the mess,” she dropped a small bag of septims into the guard’s other hand and hauled Tarric up onto his feet, dragging him back to the horses and mounting up. She shot Tarric a venomous glance and he obediently hopped into the saddle, “Thank you for the help, but I can take care of him myself. Talos guide you,” she waved and left the village, Tarric following behind her, completely humiliated.

The quiet stretched until they were far enough away from Rorikstead, Aria figured they could probably make it to Whiterun by nightfall if they kept to the road. She rode ahead of Tarric, making no move to talk to him whatsoever.

“Where were you keeping the journal?” came the quiet question from behind her.

Aria didn’t look back, “I have many secrets, and that is one I will keep to myself,”

“So you still have it on you?” 

“I’m not a stupid, Skeever-brained idiot like _some_ people. Yes,” 

“I’m not stupid,” 

Aria glanced back finally, “Then what was all that? Trying to sell me out? You _really_ need to learn how to size up your opponent if you’re ever going to be the captain of the Solitude guard,” 

“You mean I need to learn, and get used to being bought-off by you _thieves_ ,” he spat.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose through her mask, “You’re more annoying than a fly… you know that right? I thought I explained my lot to you this morning, and you’re still going to gnaw away at that bone until your gums turn bloody and your teeth start to fall out,” even Tarric pulled back at that statement, a look of disgust on his face. _Good, let him be disgusted._ “You call me disgusting, and yet you have no idea of what I think of you. You’re bumbling, loud and obnoxious, and you trip-up everything. You’re hotheaded and lack grace and a sense of planning before acting, _that_ is what got you into the trouble with the guard back there. I had nothing to do with it,”

“Are you always this honest?” he grumbled. 

“Never.” She replied, rather amused.

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds, nothing but the crickets and the sound of the wind through the brittle grass. Aria checked the position of the sun and gently spurred her horse to go a little faster, wanting to gain as much ground as she could in daylight before the sun went. 

“Why _did_ you help me?”

Aria groaned and rolled her eyes, “Is every sentence that comes from your mouth a question? Nocturnal save me, you’re worse than a child!”

“I only want to know! I thought you hated me,” Tarric flicked the reins and his horse sped up to keep pace with hers.

“Gods in Oblivion, I’m going to hit you,” she hissed lightly, not looking at Tarric at all, “I saved you because you were too pathetic. You’re like a puppy, stupid, clumsy and sad. Though believe me I had half a mind to let him make good on his threats,” she pulled ahead, signaling that the conversation was over, the two of them traveling together in silence, but the tension lessened ever so lightly.

 

* * *

 

Three days and Aria found herself looking on the familiar sight of Riften, relief filling her as she tied the horses in the stables outside of town and made her way through the gates. Tarric had followed, not really surprising her much with that, and gazed about at the misty town. Aria felt at home in the dim setting, her senses calming in the cool air as it seeped around her mask and touched her skin below like a breath of winter. 

Aria made her way down to the docks below, heading straight for the Ratway, “So you’re really going to follow me? Into a den of _thieves?”_ she glanced back at Tarric, who was looking slightly nervous, but never failed to keep himself straight and tall. The past three days had still been tense, though he had given Aria a wide berth and for once had stopped asking questions on a constant basis.

“I’ve told you, I’m not letting that book, and in this case you, out of my sight,” he huffed and Aria chuckled, opening the grate to the sewers and slipping inside.

“You’ve been warned then, hero,” she murmured.

It took her minutes to reach the Ragged Flagon, and relief washed over her when she saw Brynjolf sitting at one of the tables drinking mead. When the other man noticed her approach he smiled and stood, his lean yet strong body moving to pat Aria on the shoulder.

“Bringing in new recruits as well? You’re doing double time, lass,” he laughed, as he eyed up Tarric, who flinched at the notion, “He doesn’t look much like the type though,” 

“Believe me Bryn, he’s not,” Aria scoffed, “He’s some captain-wannabe from Solitude, wont let me out of his sight since I snatched this,” she produced the journal and laid it out in front of Brynjolf, who picked it up with a deep chuckle.

“Won’t let _you_ out of his sight? Well, if he’s up for the task then I think he’s picked a pretty tough target,” he winked at Tarric, who was looking more and more nervous by the second. 

Aria smirked through the mask and sat down across from Brynjolf as he sat down, making Tarric feel even more awkward until he sat down between them at the same table. “I’ve read through it, but I can’t decipher it. There’s a damned riddle in it and I need your help, Bryn,” 

“Aah, the great Nightingale, stumped again by a few flowery words,” Brynjolf put a hand up at Aria’s deadly glare, “Just a joke lass, let me look at it and I’ll tell you what I can figure out,”

Tarric piped up, “You’re name really _is_ Nightingale?”

She flicked a finger, “No moron, but I’m not going to give you my real name. Now shut up and let Bryn read,”

All was quiet while Brynjolf took out a parchment and wrote down a few things as he read, his eyes dancing over the pages and the riddle all at a lightning-fast pace. Aria snatched up a flask of mead beside Brynjolf and took a swig, the man didn’t seem to care that she had taken some of his drink, confusing Tarric even more.

That was when another man approached them, meaty in figure but still lean and quick in movement. His bald head reflecting a little of the dim torchlight of the tavern, he stood next to Aria and grinned. “Hey boss, I just got in a shipment of furs, got a pretty penny for them and a nice slice for you. Any other jobs striking your fancy right now?” His accent was strange to Tarric, who had heard nothing but Imperial and a little of Argonian for a long time.

Aria sighed, “Thanks Delvin, right now I’m a little busy, could you remind me later?” she looked up at him and the man nodded, before looking at Tarric.

“New recruit? Looks a little too do-goody to me,” he laughed and Aria waved her hand.

“Nah, just some lost puppy that decided to follow me,” she said lightly.

“Really? Following the boss? Now that _is_ a skill, good job,” he winked at Tarric, who blinked in confusion as he walked away.

Then it hit him and he stared incredulously at Aria, “W-wait a minute… _you’re_ the Guild Master?” he asked in shock, his jaw hanging from its hinges just a little, “ _You?”_

“Do we need to ogle like I’m some kind of novelty? _Yes_ I am, now shut up and let Bryn concentrate,” she snapped, overly tired of the ‘you’re a woman’ route that most took when they found out.

It was a few moments before Brynjolf looked up from the book and his writing, “Well lass, I have good news and I have bad news, which would you like to hear first?” 

Aria sighed, “Well seeming as the day is going fine up until now, good first,”

“Alright, so the riddle says, _Nine in all,_ I think there are nine things you need to find, and the _pieces for the heart_ bit is some kind of key. The heart is the treasure and there are nine pieces of some key that you need to find in order to get to the treasure. Now here’s something interesting,” he pointed to a set of runes above the drawing of the door Aria had been inspecting a few days prior, “These say that the nine are scattered across Skyrim, and on the door behind it there are locations. See? It’s a map of Skyrim, and each circle is a location of the pieces,” he pointed them out on the drawing and then pulled out a small map of the country, marking the locations down on them as well. 

Aria frowned, “You got all that, from looking at a page? Gods Bryn, I envy your skill,”

Brynjolf shrugged, smiling happily, “Karliah taught me a little, maybe you should talk to her about teaching you,”

“I never cared for these things, I’ll let you worry about them,” she looked at the locations on the map. One in the Throat of the World, one south of Riften one near Wind helm and just northeast of it, one south of Falkreath, one southwest of Whiterun; another northwest of Dawnstar, an eighth just west of Solitude, and the final just northeast of Markarth. “They’re all scattered around Skyrim, it’s going to take months to collect each one! And even then, we don’t know where the entrance or door is, how in Nocturnal’s name are we supposed to find it?”

“I don’t know…” Brynjolf scratched his beard, frowning at the book. 

“On the key,” Tarric suddenly piped up, earning the looks from both Brynjolf and Aria. He looked a little nervous but he shrugged, “Well, they wont put it out in the open… so if you wanted to keep it secret then break up the pieces of the key,  they have the location on it once assembled,” he trailed off lightly as they stared at him.

Brynjolf broke out into a smirk, “Good thing you brought the puppy along for the ride, eh lass?”

“Keep your opinions to yourself, Bryn,” Aria snapped distastefully, looking at Tarric with a sigh, “So. You’re good at solving riddles and you’re probably not going to leave me alone until you get this book back huh…?” She raised an eyebrow at Tarric. 

“You have that right, Nightingale,” he smirked, looking a little more confident than before.

They were silent, before Aria threw up her arms in exasperation, “You try to sell me out again like that stunt in Rorikstead, and I’ll kill you myself, got it?” 

Tarric stared at her, “Wait… you’re letting me go with you?” 

“You bet, I need a riddle-solver since I hate them so much,” she said, “Pack your bags, dog, we’re heading to the Throat of the World in the morning!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they're both starting to get along... MAYBE...  
> Yay!!! Happy for a chapter update, and these two are getting to be so fun to write about~


	4. Riddles in Ice

“So if there’s a key piece right near Riften, why aren’t we going to get that first? Why go to the Throat of the World for the first one?” Tarric asked. They were nearing the small mountain town of Ivarstead. The sky above them was overcast and dim while they passed beneath the short birch trees, the yellow leaves and mist leaving them with a strange atmosphere for traveling.

Aria looked over her shoulder, “Because I hate going to that mountain and it’s the one in the center of the map. I want it out of the way first,” she steered her horse around a branch in the middle of the road, it must have fallen from a storm but it was too big for her horse to step over. 

“Seems reasonable,” Tarric shrugged and held his cloak around him, fighting off a chill with a shiver. “But what I don’t understand, is how we’re going to find the cave the key is hidden in, if it’s even a cave,” 

“Because Brynjolf explained it to me, the pages after the drawing of the door tell of the caves the pieces are hidden in. Each clue will lead us to a puzzle in the cave that we have to solve in order to get to the key,” Aria fixed her own hood and cloak about her shoulders to keep out a frigid breeze. “Anyways, we’ll find them by following the translation Bryn gave us and go from there. I have my skills at retrieving items, and you can use yours,”

Tarric nodded as he looked about them, the hillsides were dotted with forests of birch trees, and between the trunks here and there he spotted the faint outlines of deer or moose. The whole setting was quite calming, despite the cool air and the higher altitude of the ground that he wasn’t so used too. “All of these keys and clues lead to a treasure, I’m guessing,”

The woman beside him glanced sideways out her hood before turning her eyes back to the misty road ahead, scouting for wolves or other travelers, “Yes. It leads to a rather… legendary treasure, as some would call it,”

Tarric raised an eyebrow at her and Aria laughed, “The treasure of Volund-zel, it was said that long ago a snow elf prince discovered a method to immortality. He lived for centuries, accumulating so much wealth that if it were found today it would fill Solitude and probably spill over the sides of the walls,” Tarric’s eyes went wide at her words and Aria chuckled, “Well, after he had become an incredibly rich, wise man, the snow elf prince grew lonely and sad. He then locked away all of his riches and his secret to immortality, scattering his secrets to the wind as he allowed himself to waste away to dust. That’s the story of Volund-zel, but those who have hunted for it have either come back with dead-ends and empty pockets or never come back at all,”

“That’s what you’re after? A legend?” Tarric couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it, “it sounds more like a bedtime story, a tale for children,”

Aria grinned beneath her mask, her eyes sparking, “Ah, then you miss the whole point of stories, dog. All bedtime stories and fairytales hold a little truth. You see, a few years ago a scroll was discovered that supposedly spoke of a first-hand account of the snow-elf prince’s life with immortality, it was quite the novelty item on the markets,” 

“I heard about that,” Tarric pointed out, “But I had heard it had been stolen by a pair of thieves, though one died and the other escaped. I was just an underling to the guards then, so I only heard about it when they got back from duty,”

The thief beside him tensed, her gloved hands tightening on the reins of her horse at his words. It was a while before she opened her mouth, her tongue dry, “I know. I was there,”

For once, Tarric seemed to understand not to push his questions. Instead he just looked at her curiously, but kept his mouth shut as they rode on in silence. It took them a while before they finally arrived in Ivarstead, and even then they didn’t stay too long. Aria bought, and stole a little food for the trip up the steps of the mountain, she knew they wouldn’t be going far up but it was still good to be prepared.

Aria restocked her water skins and her rations, but did not linger in Ivarstead. She got onto her horse after finishing her business, Tarric mounting up with her as they set off towards the bridge and in the direction of the 7,000 steps. They both rode in silence for now, Aria leading the way with the journal in her hand as they ascended. The snow began just when they could see the last of Ivarstead behind and below them in a blue-gray haze of cold air and snow, the cold blew over them and made Aria shiver a little in her armor. The wind howled in the trees and the rocks around them, the grass and bushes at this height were brittle and bore either coniferous branches, or only bare, skeleton-like branches.

Glancing up from the book, Aria slowed her horse and looked about, Ivarstead was well behind them by now and there were only the steps stretching out before them. Aria glanced at the book, then off to her right, where a small mountain trail wound into the side of the mountain. She hummed gently and looked back at the book, before dismounting and tying her horse up out of the road so no one could see it, instructing Tarric to do the same.

“We’re here, we need to follow this trail into the mountainside, Bryn says that it leads to a cave that should eventually lead to the key piece,” she motioned for Tarric to follow her into the trail. The pathway was narrow and they had to walk in single-file, Aria in front with the journal in her hands and Tarric behind, keeping an eye out for bears, wolves or even worse, trolls. 

It felt like they had been walking for ages, avoiding falling over the edge of the cliff or slipping into a chasm, but finally Aria stopped and the path widened out. Aria glanced again at the book just to make sure they were in the right place, just as she was doing so she spotted a small crevice. There was a small symbol, something like a circle with a winged figure in the center, cut into the rock face beside the crevice. She looked down at the book and saw the same symbol engraved on the cover, and written next to a few notes inside the text, clearly this was a corresponding symbol of the treasure or the snow elf prince.

“Here it is! That symbol must have something to do with Volund-zel and the snow-elf prince,” she said, speaking her thoughts as they both gazed at the entrance.

Tarric cocked his head to the side, “Are you sure? It looks like a troll’s den to me…” he motioned to the outside, seeing some old dried bones lying on the ground here and there. They made the place look sinister, but they were old and clean of blood or flesh, so they didn’t set off any high-danger warnings to Aria just yet.

“Well then we’ll just have to look and be careful about it,” she said curtly as she made her way to the entrance. Tarric sighed and followed a little more slowly, the wind whistled at the crack in the wall, but other than that it stopped once they entered the dim passage. Aria had her good sight with her, and managed to see a few meters in front of her face, the dark passage howling faintly with the wind outside. Aria ducked under a low hanging stone and twisted around another bend.

Tarric flinched as a bit of hanging moss brushed his neck, “It’s getting a little claustrophobic in here, isn’t it?” he laughed nervously as they moved into a smaller passage.

 Aria smirked at the other’s comment, “What? The great guard of Solitude is afraid of tight spaces? I’m disappointed, truly I am,” she laughed as Tarric groaned slightly, his hand reaching out only to touch something damp and slimy and retracted his arm swiftly.  

The further they went the more old bones littered the floor of the cave, they came out of the tunnel and into a larger cavern filled with shrubs and old bones. Light filtered in from above through a gap in the rock, the whole cave was dusty and smelled faintly of blood and damp stone. Snow trickled in slowly from the gap in the top; Aria could see it was just wide enough for some to leak into the cave and coat the entire cavern in a light dusting of snow. Nearby she spotted a grove of snowberries, growing in the nearby beam of the sun.

“See, what did I tell you? Nothing but dust and old bones, if this _was_ a troll’s den, it was one a very long time ago,” she turned back to face Tarric and he shook his head.

“I really don’t get that feeling, Nightingale,” he said worriedly, holding his sword at his hip, the weapon still in its sheath but pulled out slightly.

She scoffed and shrugged, turning around right as they both heard a rustling from the other side of the room. Tarric jumped and shrieked in surprise, yanking his sword out and holding it in front of him. Aria flinched and kept her hand on her daggers, just as a small, brown rabbit hopped out of the bush. The small animal was trapped by what seemed to be a hunter’s snare around it’s back leg, shaking it frantically to get it off.

Aria froze, before laughing and putting a hand to her mouth and mask and looked back at Tarric, “Oh the fearsome troll is here to eat you!” she laughed, cutting the rabbit loose and picking it up, holding it out to Tarric and wiggling it’s little paws, “Such a fierce little face!” she smirked and Tarric glared hatefully at her.

“Very funny,” he rolled his eyes as his body relaxed, taking the rabbit from Aria and smiling at the little animal, “aren’t you cute…” he smiled a little more and put him down, the little rabbit hopped into a bush and hid.

It was seconds later that Tarric felt hot breath on the back of his head, and a terrible stink filled the air as he felt the breath clouding on his neck. He froze as he saw Aria’s eyes go wide from in front of him and Tarric slowly turned around. He was met with the hairy, greasy chest of a frost troll. Its white hair messy and beady eyes glaring hatefully at the two of them, a thick string of drool dripped from the monster’s fangs as he snarled and his chest puffed up. Tarric stared in horror while the creature roared mightily, it’s thick arms and legs stretched to hold up its giant girth.

“RUN!” Aria shouted, but Tarric was frozen stiff, she cursed and pulled out her daggers and leapt just as the troll swung at Tarric. She knocked the man out of the way and rolled from the claws. She swung around and made to get up on her feet, slashing at the creature’s lower-calves, trying to make it to the animal’s Achilles tendon, instead it only ended up making it shriek furiously at her and swipe again. Blood sprayed from the wound

“Tarric! A little help?” she ducked another swing and rolled away, landing another slash to the creature’s back. The troll growled and swung its thick limb around and smashed Aria in the side, knocking her over and sending her flying into the wall. Aria landed, dazed with her head spinning and a pain sprouting from her side. Her weapon had been thrown away from her and into a bush, her body lay to the side and the troll snarled and made to move in for the killing blow. Aria couldn’t even move her arms, they felt like lead and her body was even heavier, she saw the troll coming for her but couldn’t seem to move herself.

 _Damn… I better not die over some stupid idiot’s blunder! If I die I’m taking that troll with me!_ She managed to get her body to move and she pulled out her dagger, but the troll just got on its hands and knees and roared in her face. It’s putrid breath made Aria shudder and gag, the stench of rotting meat wafting into her face.

That was when the troll arched its back and roared in pain, spinning around and shrieking at Tarric. The man had finally come to his senses and was drawing the troll’s attention away from Aria, the man ducked under the troll’s swipes and slashed at it’s belly, earning another bellow from the animal.

Tarric ended up getting pinned to the wall, the troll clawing and slashing at him as they fought. He managed to kick the beast away and roll down it’s back, he regained his footing and made to attack again, hitting it in the head before slashing it four times across the chest and stabbing it once through the head. The troll froze before going completely limp, it’s body growing heavy as Tarric yanked the sword from between its eyes and it fell to the snowy ground. The thick, red-black blood dripped from the end of his sword, his breathing short as he shook himself and caught his breath. A moment later he rushed over to Aria, who was just starting to move her limbs and try to stand.

“Let me see your head, that thing hit you really hard,” he made to pull Aria’s hood off. 

Her reflexes and movement abilities suddenly came back and she leapt up, smacking Tarric away before falling backwards again. “Ah! Don’t touch the hood!” she winced and put a black-gloved hand to her head, groaning as pain thrummed from a wound there. She could clearly feel blood dripping down her face and into her mouth; she grimaced at the metallic, harsh taste.

The man paused, but nodded and cleaned his sword on a nearby rock, resting his heel on the creature’s shoulder. “I hate to say ‘I told you so’ but, I told you so,” he looked pointedly at the troll and Aria shrugged before hauling herself back up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” she groaned and got stiffly to her feet, putting her hands behind her back and stretching. She flicked her cloak over her shoulder and dusted herself off, sighing in annoyance. She had been stupid enough to need help from this do-gooder, it made her feel childish and, worst of all, girlish. 

“So this can’t be the right cave,” he finished dusting his own shoulders and sheathed his sword. Aria rolled her eyes and looked around, before spotting another symbol similar to that on the outside of the cave.

“Are you sure about that?” she pointed her finger to the symbol and Tarric turned, making a short groan as his shoulders fell, “Come on then, and if you mention this whole… escapade, to anyone, I’ll make sure you remain poor and penniless until your old and senile, is that clear?” she glared angrily out the side of her hood as they moved towards the symbol, finding a passageway leading further into the cavern.

Tarric shrugged, “A ‘thank you’ would suffice,”

Suddenly he found himself up against the wall, Aria’s hand gripping the front of his jerkin so tightly that he was afraid she would rip the leather. Her eyes were cold and furious, but he thought he could see a small amount of fear there too. “I am not a weakling! I only messed up because I was caught off-guard! If you so much as breathe this to a living soul, you’ll regret the day you were born. I will not be ridiculed by this, or anything else!” She pushed him harder against the rock face, Tarric’s feet rising just a little so he was standing on the pads of his shoes.

“Alright! Put me down! I get it, really I do!” He tried to pull the other’s hands off of him, struggling in her surprisingly strong grip. Aria huffed and released her grip, the man’s feet scrabbling as he regained his balance. She moved away from him, but paused in the doorway, “Thank you, though. There, happy?” she didn’t even look back to him, just kept going through the darker tunnel. Tarric didn’t reply, only followed, now keeping a wary-eye out for any more trolls that could have been lurking further in.

The two went through the shallow tunnel and it came out in a circular chamber, the floor was flat stone blocks all laid out in a mosaic pattern. The pattern resembled a sun, knowing that the snow elves lived within the light; they would have used the sun as a decoration in such a chamber. There was a beam of natural light in here too, falling almost too perfectly upon a pedestal in the center of the room. Around them were short benches made of stone, intricately carved and quite solid, though one or two were crumbling or cracking from years of abandonment. Across from them directly was a giant stone relief, painted with a mural along with it depicting the snow elf prince holding what seemed to be a large stone above his head. The elf was quite fair in feature, as fair as a stone relief could show. His long-flowing hair reached around him like a cloak, and along with his robes and crown he seemed to almost move in the stone. Around him were nine beacons, shown as circular reliefs with a ring around each. The whole thing was painted with intricate designs and symbols all adding to the very ancient atmosphere, along with the dust and snow leaking in from above.

Upon the wall beneath the prince, were runes carved in what seemed to be the snow elf language. Brynjolf had provided Aria with a page to help her translate any simple words from the language, which she was definitely glad for. 

“What is this?” Tarric had approached the pedestal, noticing a glass orb floating just inches from the bowl of the pedestal. Inside the frost-dusted orb seemed to be a piece of something, it glinted in the light from the opening above and Aria was instantly drawn to it. 

She looked at the thing and tapped at the glass, it produced a clear, musical note when she did, but did nothing else. “I’m not sure…” she reached out to touch it, the glass felt normal and cool, even between the barrier of her gloves and her hands.

“Let me try, maybe we need to pull it off?” Tarric put his two hands to the orb and pulled, but it refused to even budge. The orb stayed firm where it was, and the key piece inside didn’t move at all. A moment passed and a small ring of electricity formed from the top to the middle, before giving him a shock that sent him stumbling backwards in surprise. 

Aria frowned, rubbing her mask in thought, “I’m guessing that this is another riddle…” she growled, hating that it probably was.

Tarric looked past her, “What’s that on the wall? Can you translate it?” 

“Alright, hold your horses,” she turned and walked to the words, whipping out the journal and the page for translating. She flipped through the pages and soon had the basic phrase worked out, good thing it was so simple and short.

 

_If you hurt me I will hurt you back,_

_If you love me I will shower you with my gifts._

 

Tarric paused and looked thought for a moment after Aria relayed the riddle to him. It took only a few moments of him looking at the riddle on the wall, the translation, and then circling around the pedestal and looking at the orb.

“I’m glad that you chose to come here first, this one is rather easy,” he smiled as Aria raised an eyebrow. He put up his index finger and moved to the orb; instead of pulling at it he gently placed his fingers and palms to the smooth surface of the glass. He knelt down and slowly leaned up, pressing his lips to the cool glass in a gentle kiss.

Aria stared at him incredulously, but then the orb slowly melted away into a glittering pile of dust. The key piece hovered in the center, and Tarric snatched it carefully from the air and held it up to the light. Aria gazed at it as well; the piece was clearly some kind of metal… with a rounded bottom edge and a sharp point. On it they could see runes, but not enough to make out any full words, only letters.

“Nicely done, you’re good at these,” Aria smirked, clearly more than pleased. She snatched the piece and gazed at it, the colour was much like a bronze-metallic colour.

Tarric sighed and rolled his eyes when Aria snatched the piece, he shook his head, “I’m glad to be of use to you,”

Aria scoffed, “You’re such a sourpuss, Tarric,” she waved for him to follow as she moved to leave the cave, sparing one last glance back at the mural, before leaving with Tarric following behind her.

 

* * *

 

Aria had decided to head to the next one near the southeast of Windhelm, the both of them making a stop for rest in the marshes near Darkwater Crossing. She had tied the horses up while Tarric started a fire to cook food for dinner, the sun was setting low between the mountains while they prepared camp for the night. 

It was dark by the time the stew Tarric was making finished boiling and cooking, he stirred it a few more times before tasting it and nodding. He pulled out his bowl, holding out his hand for Aria’s and filling the both of them with the hot stew. The two of them unrolled their sleeping rolls and sat down across from each other and ate. Aria enjoyed the hot stew greatly, happy to have some warm food in her stomach after a long, cold day.

After eating she laid back on her roll, turning the piece of the key around in her hand lazily with one arm behind her head. The firelight reflected off the surface of the carved key, making the raised parts and the indented carvings flicker and dance with shadows.

She glanced over when she heard a light jingling sound; she looked at Tarric who was playing with what seemed to be a small gold necklace around his throat. The necklace was hard to see from where she was, but she could tell the pendant was in the shape of a heart and glittered beautifully. The firelight caught it and it shone for a split second, Aria’s eyes following it as Tarric tapped it and made it swing with one finger.

“What’s that? A gift from your girl?” she smirked, her voice light. 

Tarric looked up, “No, it’s… it _was_ my sister’s,” he took one last look at the necklace and tucked it back into his jerkin and tunic.

Aria raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And why is it no longer hers?” 

He sighed, “She died in an accident in the marketplace one evening, caught in the middle of a fight between two stall keepers. She always liked to try to be the peacekeeper, my sister,” he tucked his arms behind his head and shifted in his bedroll, “It got her killed in the end, and I joined the army and the Solitude guards so I could prevent that from happening again,”

She nodded and closed her eyes, though keeping her senses wide-open, “Must have been a special girl, your sister. Though I think it’s stupid she would try to break up a fight, but I give her credit for trying,” Tarric frowned at her. Aria just laughed lightly, "So, you don't have a girl then? Or do you have a regular string of them?"

Tarric looked almost offended, "I do _not_ have a  _string_ of women! I'm not that kind of person!" he barked.

Aria's laugh grew a little louder, "Really? Could have fooled me," she smirked.  
  
"What about _you?_  Do you have anyone?" but Aria said nothing, the two of them remaining silent for a long time. Aria had her eyes closed but did not sleep, and Tarric gazed up at the stars long after the fire began to die and become a glowing pit of embers.

 _This venture will be a long time in the making, but we’re one step closer to those riches… I want this finished; I want Alrik’s sacrifice to actually mean something. I want it to benefit the Guild so that I can put it to rest._ Truly Aria did have some noble intentions with this whole adventure, but the true reason for doing all this was something she could not admit to herself, let alone out loud. She kept it well buried beneath her emotions, her anger and hurt locked firmly within a tight safe in the deepest parts of her subconscious.

It took Aria a while to realize she was being called, and she glanced back at Tarric, who was sitting up on one elbow. “What?” 

“I said, what is your real name, Nightingale?” he looked genuinely curious.

She just turned her head back and huffed, “As I said before, I keep it to myself. I haven’t lived this long by giving my name to others so lightly,” Aria sighed and rolled onto her side, back facing Tarric. “Get some sleep, we need to cover as much ground as we can by tomorrow night." That stopped the conversation as the fire finally snuffed out and the last few tendrils of smoke ascended towards the stars, vanishing into the air as if they had never existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, this one had a nice long wait now didn't it?  
> I've been out job-hunting a lot lately, so my updates will be slow. Though I'm really getting into this story, enjoying the character dynamics and such.
> 
> I'm sure this has all been said before, so I wont bore you guys too much~  
> The riddles are my own making... I'm going to be doing more research to make each more difficult~
> 
> See you in the next chapter!


	5. A Little Bit of Luck

_I’m not going to let him show me up. Just because I got smacked and hit my head and he had to come save me doesn’t mean I owe him a thing. He was only repaying me for saving his hide before._ Aria brooded angrily with herself, her arms crossed over her chest while she stared at the sky. She had been lying there for hours, not getting a wink of sleep and because of this stupid, nagging thought that she _owed_ Tarric her life for saving her.

She huffed, glancing over at the man sleeping so soundly across from her; _it was his fault we blundered into that troll! If he had just been paying attention it wouldn’t have ended up like that! I owe him nothing but a smack to the head and a good pick pocketing for good measure._ The thief closed her eyes, trying to at least sleep a little, but it wouldn’t come, instead all she saw was the troll and how she couldn’t move. She saw Tarric rush in and save her, killing the beast while she lay uselessly on the floor. She shook herself and opened her eyes again with a sigh, the sky above her starting to lighten, _stop it! No! Enough of all that!_

Seeing as Tarric was asleep, she loosened her mask over her face and lifted it off for a moment. She breathed the cool air with a short sigh, trying to clear her head of all the muddling thoughts bombarding it. _I can’t allow myself to show weakness, yesterday was a blunder and I need to correct that. I can’t have myself falling into a situation like that again. I won’t be taken care of._ She resolved quietly as she glanced over at Tarric again, her mask lying on her chest. 

The man was fast asleep, his head cradled by his right arm wrapped around it as he slept. His left arm draped over his chest and his legs and waist were hidden beneath his blanket. His face was strong, not really surprising for an Imperial, and his jaw was square. His bangs were short and only fell a little in front of his eyes; the rest of his hair was incredibly short, probably military rules. He was handsome, and she couldn’t deny that she liked his appearance, despite his clumsy personality and his loud mouth. 

He stirred and almost immediately she put her mask back on, turning to face the now faded stars while Tarric yawned and opened his eyes drowsily. Aria had rolled up into a sitting position, moving to get up from her sleeping roll and put it away.

“We should get moving, the next piece is nearby and we should be at the cave by early evening,” she strapped the roll to her horse’s saddle and brought out her food bag. Inside was a piece of bread she had bought from Ivarstead, cold and a little crusty, but she ate it anyways. Tarric yawned and stretched, sitting up and looking around sleepily at their surroundings.

“It’s not even dawn yet, you sure are an early riser,” he said with a second yawn.

Aria shrugged and offered him a second piece of bread, which he took gladly, “It’s best not to linger in one place too long, you never know what’s around you, it’s always a good plan to be moving when the sun is up,”

Tarric listened and raised his eyebrows, shrugging in agreement as he ate the offered bread. The both of them were soon saddled up, the fire doused and their cloaks on, they spurred forward just as the rest of the world began to wake up.

 

They paused for a short rest around midday, the sun beating down on them as they crossed the open lands of hot springs and geysers that stretched between Darkwater Crossing and the edges of Kynesgrove. The sun was warm on their backs and the sounds of water calming as Aria rested on a tall chunk of rock, eating some dried meat and a green apple. She was just about to lie back in the sun when she spotted Tarric stuffing some food into one of his bags, making her frown and lean forward to see what he was doing.

“Now stay in there…” he bit off a piece of his own apple and placed it down into his bag. This made Aria’s frown deepen, she slid off the rock and landed on the dusty ground, walking over to Tarric.

“What are you doing?” she asked curiously.

Tarric instantly closed his bag and turned to face her, much like a guilty child trying to hide a broken glass. “Nothing! I’m not doing anything!” but Aria had snatched the bag before he could even see her move, holding it up by one of the straps.

“Talking to your bag is ‘nothing’?” that was when she felt the bag wiggle. Her attention turned to the bag and she opened the top of it, only to see a small, hazel rabbit with a black patch over it’s eye poke it’s head and long ears out of the top, sniffing around for more food. She stared at it for a moment, before whipping out her dagger, “I see you found supper, you’re not as witless as I thought!” 

“NO!” Tarric shot forward and grabbed the satchel and the rabbit, holding it to his chest, “He’s not for eating! He’s a friend!” 

Aria stared at Tarric, an incredulous look on her face, or as much as he could see of it, “You mean to say, that you’ve been feeding a _rabbit_ your rations… instead of _eating_ the rabbit yourself?”

Tarric nodded furiously, taking the rabbit from his bag as it nuzzled into his chest, glaring hatefully at Aria. “He’s a pet! I found him and he started to follow me, so I thought I’d bring him with us. You know… like a mascot or something,” he smiled and rubbed the rabbit between the ears, making its whiskers twitch happily. “See? He’s a friendly little guy huh?” he started to chatter to the rabbit, leaving Aria in a state of abashed confusion.

She sighed after a while and threw up her arms, sheathing the dagger, “I’m not agreeing to this. If that rabbit so much as makes one move I don’t like, I’m having rabbit stew for dinner.”

Tarric’s face brightened, oddly, like a child who’s had a treat given to them, “Alright! I’ll make sure you’re good, and you will be, wont you Ragnar?” he played with the rabbit’s nose and Aria raised an eyebrow. 

“Ragnar? As in the one from the song…?”

“Yeah! Why not? I used to love that song as a kid!” Tarric smiled and the rabbit sneezed lightly.

Aria groaned and turned to jump back into her saddle, “Now that song is going to be stuck in my head for _weeks…_ or until I kill that damned rabbit,”

Strapping Ragnar into his satchel, head poking out, Tarric lifted himself into his saddle and smiled at Aria even more, looking a little too pleased with himself, “Oh come on! It’ll be fun! I could train him to fight too,”

“A fighting rabbit… now _there’s_ something I would pay to see,”

 

* * *

 

They arrived at the mouth of the cave earlier than Aria thought, following a small trail off the path and into a rocky pass. They trudged through the snow to find it hidden between two large pine trees, safely out of prying eyes. They were near the city of Windhelm, and Aria already felt nervous being around the city. Though she was a nord, she knew they didn’t take kindly to those associated with the Guild, at least not since her last job here.

“Why not stop in the city later for a hot meal and some rest in a bed?” Tarric offered, petting a now sleeping Ragnar in his lap whilst in the saddle.

Aria shook her head, “I’d rather not chance it,”  
  
“Why not? Did you do something to them?”

Aria smirked and laughed, “Well, lets just say stealing one of the Jarl’s prized gemstone rings right off of him led to some bitter relationships,”

Tarric’s eyes widened in shock, “You. _You_ stole from Ulfric Stormcloak, right in front of him? How by the eight did you manage to get out of _that_ alive? Or at least not stuck in prison?” 

She enjoyed the other’s awe, liking the swell of pride she got when she felt his slight admiration, she couldn’t help but bask in it a little. “Aaah, that was quite the interesting job. See I was younger at that time, I had just become the head of the Guild and I wanted to do something to solidify my name. So I picked one of the biggest fish in the pond, walked up to him and stole his ring. Granted I did try a little acting, and dressed like a brothel girl at one of his parties, quite a fun experience that. Damn idiot only noticed a few hours later when I was about to leave the city, unfortunately he had seen my likeness before so he knew who to chase… damn bastard hasn’t made it easy getting back into Windhelm,” she shrugged, as if it were nothing to be worried about, “But I got a new wardrobe and he soon lost the scent, but for now I’d like to avoid the city,”

By the end of her story, Tarric’s face was a mixture of amazement and utter disbelief, his mouth hanging slightly open for a moment or two before he shut it promptly. “So wait, he _saw_ you? Face and all?”

Aria nodded, “Yes, I’ve mostly kept to masks, but I didn’t think he’d let someone with their face hooded so much as within ten feet of him, let alone close enough to steal his ring. So I tried a… different approach,”

They had gotten off their horses by now, and entered the cave. Inside it was dry and cold, the howling wind offering them a strange, echoing symphony to go with the sounds of their crunching boots in the snow. Snow soon turned to dirt and rock as they slid down an incline into the main chamber of the cave, around them were bones encased in ice, all dry and old. Along with them was the skeleton of a troll that had been dead for ages, a sword through its stomach.

Remembering the last cave, they kept their eyes and ears open, looking all around them for signs of new trolls or other monsters. Finding none, they ventured through another tunnel and into a smaller, but still large chamber that resembled the riddle chamber back at the Throat of the World. Yet instead, this chamber had a relief of the prince, sitting on his throne overlooking a city. His palm outstretched over the buildings and a shimmering light in his hand, or something bright from what the stone drawings told them. Aria was beginning to wonder, what the light in his hand was, since the same thing had appeared in the previous riddle chamber, and now had reappeared here.

This time though, they didn’t see a pillar in the center, there was nothing. They looked all around, until Tarric looked up and spotted it. A large carving of a dragon’s head, gripping the key shard in its teeth, was suspended from the ceiling of the cave; its eyes made of what seemed to be a shimmering blue quartz. There was no way for Aria to climb to get it, or for either of them to knock it down.

“We _could_ always throw the rabbit and see if it knocks it out…” Aria speculated, earning a hurt sound from Tarric and a hearty-hateful glare from Ragnar the rabbit. 

Tarric moved over and looked at the riddle, written in the same way as before, near the bottom of the relief in the language of the snow elves. He motioned for Aria to come over, and she drew out the book and started to translate with her language notes from Brynjolf.

 

_Kings and Queens may cling to power._

_The Jester may have his call._

_Yet, as you may discover,_

_The common one outranks them all._

Aria sat down on the floor, “Why can’t they just say, ‘here’s the key, the treasure is here, spend at your leisure’? That would be a whole lot easier,” 

Tarric just shook his head and put a hand to his chin, running over the light stubble already growing there, “Because these things have to be hidden well, or else it wouldn’t be a great feat in finding them, now would it?” she just waved off his comment and grunted, glaring furiously at the dragon in the middle of the ceiling.

 

It was much darker in the cave by the time Tarric jumped up and startled Aria, “AHA! I get it! It’s an ace!” he smiled at Aria, “the kind from a card game, you know? Kings and Queens, the suits are both powerful cards in a game; the Jester is the jack, and the common one that outranks them? The ace!”

The two of them turned their attention to the dragon in the ceiling expectantly, but it didn’t make any semblance of opening it’s jaws to them. “Okay, Mr. Brainpower, what now? It won’t open,” she crossed her arms and stared at Tarric.

“But, that’s the answer! There’s nothing else! An _ace!”_ he shouted again, but still nothing happened.

Aria looked up again, just as frustrated as Tarric at this point. _How on earth are we supposed to get it out now? That’s clearly the answer, but how can we convince the statue to let it go?_ She paused for a moment, before she remembered something, _sometimes words aren’t enough, you need proof…_

“Proof…” she muttered under her breath, coming to a realization.

Tarric stared at her, “What? You said something?” 

She smiled and felt herself grow light-headed with the idea that she had figured it out, “Proof, it needs proof! Sometimes words aren’t enough!” She laughed and dug around in her pockets, producing a deck of cards bound in twine. The thief flicked through them before she slid an ace of spades out from the deck and held it in her hand. She then extended her arm and showed it, face up, to the dragon-head statue. The eyes sparked and its jaws seemed to loosen as it accepted her answer, the key shard falling neatly into her other palm with a soft thud.

“Hah! See? I can solve them too!” she swiped the card in Tarric’s face, dancing around the room a little, much to his and her own surprise. Yet she didn’t care for the moment, she was just happy she had solved part of the riddle herself. “Take _that_ you pompous prince! You and all your ridiculous riddles!” she jabbed her finger at the carving of the snow elf prince and laughed melodiously, gripping the key shard in her hand while she did.

“Lucky guess…” Tarric muttered sorely, yet a smile tugged at his mouth.

Aria turned to face him, “Oh no! That was pure smarts and you can’t deny it! I can solve these too, you’re just angry I solved the second part before you did. I think I deserve some credit!” she turned her nose up at him and Tarric just laughed. 

“Alright, alright, but you wouldn’t have known it was an ace. You would have been picking though each card until it got you somewhere,” she huffed and put her cards and the shard away as he spoke, “or you would have been still sitting here trying to figure it out,”

“Yes, true. But I still got it,” she hummed lightly to herself as she turned on her heel, cloak flashing behind her like the tail of a great cat. She marched out of the cave confidently, jumping into the saddle of her horse as Tarric came out behind her.

He settled himself with Ragnar sleeping at his side, “Face it, you’d be still stuck in there without me,”

“And you’d be still stuck in there without _me,_ ” she countered, but somehow they both laughed and left it at that, spurring their mounts down the side of the mountain and back to the road.

The next key shard was up northeast of their current location, which meant going past Windhelm. She inwardly groaned as she turned her horse onto the path towards the city, _I don’t have to go in, just past._ If she just went past it and kept her head down, nothing would happen.

That was when they came to an overturned wagon, a dead horse and a bloodied trail leading into the bushes. They paused and stared at the wreckage, just as Aria heard the clinking of metal behind them. She whipped around in the saddle and saw a small band of guards behind them, bow’s already drawn and swords ready, their horses snorting clouds of white mist into the breezy winter air. The leader stepped forward and looked between Aria, Tarric and the wreckage.

“You’ve committed crimes against Skyrim and her people, you will dismount and come quietly with me or be dragged by your wrists to the castle dungeons to await questioning. Your choice.” 

That was when Aria’s heart sank, and the bitter cold of the night started to seep through her leather armor and into her skin. That was when the blizzard started and the wind whistled, and she knew that if she ran she would be shot, and if she went with the guards she would inevitably be recognized by someone and tried for larceny. Tarric would be affiliated with her and would share any sentence she received, for her past and present crimes.

All in all, they were in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh! Sorry for the long wait. I had a bit of writer's block, then a whole bunch of crap happened and I couldn't get to my writing except for a few minutes at a time. D8
> 
> Alrightie, so Tarric and Aria are starting to at least get along, though Ragnar should be an interesting little development. Heehee~ They needed a mascot, so I GAVE them one HAHA. At least it's not a frog... at least it's not a frog.


	6. Caged Rat, Tethered Dog

“I’m telling you! I’m Tarric Mercius! I am a guard in Solitude, I am no thief!” Tarric struggled against the men as he was shoved roughly into a cell, the door locked tightly behind him just before he slammed himself against the bars. The guard punched the side of his fist against the bars, knocking a startled Tarric back onto his rear in the stonewalled cell.

The captain of the guard laughed roughly, “We don’t care who you are or who you were, boy. Sit back in your cell and relax. Besides, you’ll get two square meals a day and a soft bed, so enjoy your time here,” he smirked through his helmet. The guard moved over to the cell next to Tarric’s, Aria sat cross-legged in the center of the far wall. She was still as a statue, her back straight and her hands clasped between her legs, her eyes hard as stones. 

“As for you, girlie, Ulfric isn’t going to forget you just because you’ve changed your wardrobe. He’ll have some fun plans for you I’m sure of it.” He leaned against her door, casually holding his hand to his sword hilt, “Maybe he’ll let a few of us have-at you before he deals with you himself. We’ll get to see if you really are as cold as rumors say, or if you’re just putting up a little act.”

Aria didn’t even flinch at his words. Instead she sighed, “You guardsmen seem to only think about three things, drinking, swordplay and where you’re going to stick your cock next. You’re quite the bunch of simpletons and imbeciles, I really find it pathetic,” she chuckled through her mask.

The captain snarled and kicked the cage door in frustration, “Just remember when I have you against the wall, you could have been nice and I would have been a lot gentler with your sentence,” he huffed and walked away, his keys jingling as he handed them to the guardsman at the front. “Keep an eye on the dark one, crafty one that. The boy is no concern,” they left; the barred door to the outside was shut, the guard and the captain on the other side of it. Thus leaving Aria and Tarric alone in their separate cells, Tarric pacing like a trapped dog, and Aria remaining like stone in her cell.

She looked across the room at what she knew to be a torturing rack, the chains covered in flecks of dried blood. Their things had been confiscated, all except Ragnar who had escaped from the guardsmen and hidden somewhere in the palace, they hadn’t found the rabbit yet. Aria knew they would keep their items in an evidence chest, but it was a good thing she had her hidden pockets in her armor, they hadn’t found the journal or the key pieces, and she had been able to keep her armor by some strange coincidence. She blamed it on sloppy work, but she wasn’t about to complain about something that could help her escape. 

 _If I can figure out how to escape from here… we can be out of the city by dawn._ She was sure the day had passed its zenith and it was nearing early evening. Aria leaned her head back against the wall of her cell, closing her eyes as she thought. The wheels in her mind had been spinning an escape plan ever since they closed the door to her cell, and it was already starting to form.

“How can you be so calm? He just threatened you, insulted you and basically degraded you,” She heard Tarric’s voice from his cell, making her smile.

“Because I’m used to being locked up, and I’m used to dealing with shitheads like him,” she said plainly while crossing her arms over her chest. 

Tarric scoffed, she heard him shuffle and guessed he must be sitting down, “So. If you’re used to it, then I bet you’re used to breaking out?” he asked hopefully, clearly he didn’t like being locked up.

Aria played with a piece of straw, rolling it between her fingers while she thought. She was silent for some time, getting up and moving around her cell and leaving Tarric to wait for her answer. She blew the strand of straw out between the bars, and it landed out on one of the grimy cobblestones. Aria then walked back towards the straw, sat down and leaned against the left-hand wall nearest Tarric, “I have an idea, but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

 

* * *

 

 “I’ll do it.”

Aria inclined her head from the wall in surprise, after telling Tarric her idea for getting out she had expected him to down right refuse her. She let the silence hang for a moment, before smirking beneath her mask, “Really? Because you know this means thievery. You’ve told me how much you dislike it, and my ‘kind’ as you called me,” 

She heard him sigh, “I know I don’t like it, but if it’s what it takes to get us out of here and keep us from possible execution, then I’ll do it,”

“Alright, but this means we need you to be quick, quiet and unseen, plus you need to steal,” she added, listing his tasks much like one would list something like food or supplies.

He shuffled, “Yes I know, are you ready to bust out or not?”

Aria smirked and laughed gravelly, “Heh, I’ll make a thief out of you yet!” she grinned beneath her mask while she got up.

“Don’t count on it too highly there, Nightingale,” there was a short pause as Aria leaned against the bars, “So do I get to know your name if I get us out?”

“We’ll see, doggy, we’ll see,”

 

* * *

 

It was nearing midnight when Aria put their plan in motion. She leaned on the bars of her cell where she could see the door on the other end of the room, but where she was also close to Tarric. Her stance casual and her body loose, she called loudly from her cell.  
  
“Hey! Hey captain! I know you can hear me you great lout, I want to talk for a second,” she shouted, knowing the guard barracks were just up the stairs and down the hall. They may have blindfolded but it would take more than that to fool or confuse her, she almost always knew where she was.

Nothing happened for a moment or so, until they heard a sigh and the jingling of keys as the captain of the guard came down the steps and opened the gate. _Good, means that one is unlocked._ Aria noted this to herself, keeping her eyes on the large man now coming towards her.

“So, the thief calls for me? What do you want, rat?” he smirked, resting his large frame on the wall between Tarric and herself. He had his back to Tarric and his front facing Aria, almost, his hips twisted so he could keep himself looking at her.

Aria moved a little closer, “Well I just wanted to apologize for before, see, I was a little sour and I feel that I really should be… appealing to your better nature.” She looked up, her blue eyes wide and girlish as she gazed at him. “Will you forgive my foolishness?” she ran her finger along one of the bars thoughtfully.

The captain grinned, “Really now?”  
  
“Of course, I figured I might as well make some connections… since I’m definitely not getting out of this cell,” she moved a little closer, “And since you’re a lot smarter and stronger than I am,”

Tarric inched a little closer, the thief couldn’t see him but he should be taking the guard’s keys. Tarric couldn’t help but inwardly laugh at himself, he had hated thieves and cutpurses, and here he was stealing from the captain of the guard of Windhelm. _How ironic…_ he thought lightly as he snaked his arm around and snatched the keys quietly from the captain who was obviously occupied with the thief. 

Yet suddenly, quick as a flash the guard jumped forward, snatching Aria through the bars, his thick hand closing around the other’s slender throat. Aria gasped in surprise and coughed, lifted off the floor by the strong arm.

“And you think, you so _stupidly_ think that I’m going to fall for that girl?” the guard spat furiously, hand tightening. Aria’s hands moved up to grip his wrists, trying to push away as her windpipe closed on her, restricting her breathing. “You’re wrong… I’m going to come in there and show you exactly what I think of you, you’ll be begging for mercy by the time I’m finished with you!”

Fear flashed through Aria’s mind, she thought the man would have succumbed to bribery, maybe a lie or two just to distract him. Instead she was caught off-guard and her heart quickened while her breath lessened. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears and any thoughts of escape evaded her; she was truly trapped when she had nothing to use against her enemies, not one thing. 

The guard made to grab his keys, only to find them missing. He whipped about, not letting go of Aria as he patted his tunic and belt, except they weren’t there at all. “What the…?” he frowned, and then he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned.

“Put. Her. Down.” was all Aria heard before the guard jerked forward suddenly and bashed his head on the bars, releasing the thief’s throat and crumpling to the floor. Aria fell to her knees, stunned and coughing, striving to fill her lungs with air and rubbing at her throat tenderly.

Tarric kicked the man in the head, knocking him to the side. He unlocked the cell door and knelt, helping Aria up to her feet, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, staggering to her feet as she waved him off of her, “Thanks, I’m fine,” she cleared her throat, “come on, they’ll figure out that he’s missing soon enough. We still need to get past the guard room and get our supplies from their holding chest,” she shook herself, searching the captain and stealing one of his knives and a few coins off of him before she moved towards the open door.  “Put on his clothes, you can pretend to be a guard on the way out, it’ll make things easier,” 

Surprisingly, Tarric did as he was told, though he did mumble about how ‘he may have to do it but he didn’t have to like it’. He stripped the tunic and belt from the captain, his helmet and shield and put it on over his clothes.

Tarric fiddled with his new outfit, complaining about the helmet before he followed, “We have to find Ragnar too, I don’t want to leave him behind,” he said quietly while they moved out into the hallway. Aria nodded but otherwise ignore his comment, the rabbit was his concern, not hers.

They rounded the corner, there were three guards sitting around a table, drinking and eating a few sweet rolls from a plate on the table. One of them looked up as Tarric grabbed Aria’s wrists, holding them behind her back. The guard straightened his back and looked at them as the other two turned, “Where are you taking her?”

“Prisoner transfer, she was able to escape that cell so I’m moving her to a more secure location. Ulfric gave me orders himself to do so,” he pushed Aria forward rather jerkily, making her growl in protest as Tarric led her out of the room. He leaned forward and whispered to her, “Just go with it…”

The two of them moved up the steps and out the doors of the palace without any fuss, surprisingly enough. Aria had visions of hordes of soldiers and guards coming around every corner, but so far nothing was happening. _This is far too easy… not that I’m complaining, but where is everyone?_ They stopped near the evidence room and grabbed all their supplies as quietly as they could. Aria looked around while Tarric led her outside, moving towards a higher battlement, Aria quietly pointing them in the right direction.

The man paused behind her, “Hold on… I hear something…” he turned around and they both froze. A moment later a small, disheveled-looking rabbit hopped from behind an alleyway, a little black patch over its eye. “Ragnar!” Tarric grabbed the rabbit and nuzzled it’s fur as it twitched its ears happily, Aria grinned lightly and shook her head while he motioned for them to keep going.

They were near the Gray Quarter when a loud sound erupted from the Palace of Kings, and Aria’s heart almost stopped. “The prisoners! They’ve escaped! They attacked the captain and escaped! Seal off the city, don’t let them get out!” the alarm went up and the two of them began to sprint. Tarric flung his helmet off as they sprinted, keeping a tight hold to Ragnar and his pack.

Aria led Tarric higher, climbing on top of the buildings and sprinting across them to get to the walls. All around the city was turned upside down as guards spilled from the fortress, blocking off the gates to the city and cutting off their escape at every turn. 

“There they go! Over the rooftops! Hurry!” they heard the clatter of boots and armor, weapons and chain mail all across the streets below.

“Tarric! Keep close and we’ll get out, there’s an old wall nearby that can get us out!” She heard him holler a reply, keeping up with her quick pace. The soldiers all ran about, but just behind them. Aria led them to an old battlement and onto the ragged rock.

Tarric turned and looked behind them, seeing the glint of torches coming closer and closer, “It’s not going to take them long to get up here! Nightingale, what do we do?” he looked panicked, his eyes wide.

Aria looked about frantically, last time she had been here she had a rope, and it was at least a four-storey drop to the bottom of the wall on the other side. “Damn! We’re going to have to climb down like this… it looks like there’s a path right there, just follow me—” an arrow whizzed by them, just grazing Aria’s cheek and sending her flying backwards and over the edge with a loud shout of surprise. Aria felt the world spin as she fell backwards, her eyes wide and her limbs flailing as she was dragged down to the cold ground below. Time seemed to slow down for her somehow, as if she were moving in water, her body heavy but weightless at the same time.

That was before she felt her wrist catch something and her body stopped, caught in the air by something holding her. She blinked in surprise before she looked up, to see Tarric holding onto her wrist and leaning over the edge of the wall with a wince.

“H-hold on!” he gasped as another arrow flew over his head.

“What are you doing?” she shouted back at him.

He grinned, “What d-does it look like I’m doing? Saving your life!” he glanced to the side as the archer fired again, just barely missing him as he looked to the side. “Alright, there’s a ledge there, I’ll swing you across and drop you on it!”  
  
“How do I know you won’t drop me and leave me for dead?” 

Tarric rolled his eyes and raised his voice, “If I wanted to kill you then I wouldn’t have caught you! Now for one time in your life, _trust_ someone!”

Aria stared at Tarric, too shocked for the moment, and then without warning she nodded and the man swung her over. He jumped down with her and the both of them worked together, as if they had rehearsed it, to get down the battlements and into the snow on the other side of the city wall. They soon stole a pair of horses from the stables and vanished into the night, leaving an overturned Windhelm in turmoil as they searched for the two fugitives.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Not a riddle chapter, but a plot chapter. Time to shock the both of them out of their brooding and quarrelling. 
> 
> Again with a long wait for the next chapter... sorry... but here~ 8D lots going on so it'll be slow to update.


	7. Nightingale

            Aria and Tarric had been traveling for a day and a half, having left Windhelm in the middle of the night, and now they were trapped in a blizzard. The snow was thick and Aria could barely see her map or the landmarks around her, the chill in the air made her shiver and she pulled her cloak around her body to keep the wind out. Tarric stayed close by so they could stay together in the whiteout.

            She squinted through the wind and the snow to the road ahead, there was no way that anyone from Windhelm could have followed them in this, and that reassured her somewhat. She knew that the entrance to the next place was further north, near the sea but between Windhelm and Winterhold. Glancing at the map, Aria quickly plotted a change in direction before folding it and putting it away before it got soggy or blown away.

            Besides the howling storm around her, Aria’s inner thoughts were a blizzard as well; tossed about and all mixed up from their escape. On one hand she had been falling from at least a ten storey drop before Tarric had grabbed hold of her wrist, she had almost been so surprised at his catch that she nearly barked at him to let her go. The other thing that baffled her was his words, telling her to trust him, to put her trust in someone for a change and he would save her and himself. What had truly stirred her mind was that he actually meant it, getting the both of them down the wall and riding away without so much of a complaint or jibe about turning into a fugitive.

            It had shocked Aria into such a silence that she barely spoke until they found the entrance to the cave. She was so tired as well, that she tethered her horse and unrolled her sleeping roll even before Tarric got a fire started, almost completely ignoring him.

            _No one keeps his or her word like that! No one has ever helped me since… since Alrik. No, Tarric is just here for the journal, he’s only here to see this through and get that damn journal back to clear his name._ She lay down, facing the wall of the cave while Tarric and Ragnar made dinner, Aria’s arms crossed over her chest while she thought. _There’s no way he gives any damn about you, by the Nine Aria, you’re all worked up over this stupid thing. He helped you out because he had to in order to save himself, so stop your brooding about it. It’s not going to help with the task at hand, and it’s_ definitely _not going to do you any good in the long run._ She kicked herself mentally for letting her thoughts run away like they were. 

            _I’m not some child. I’m a professional thief and I don’t care how I get my things done, I’m going to see this through and I’m not letting him distract me from it!_ She glanced over her shoulder, and saw Tarric nuzzling Ragnar before setting the rabbit down in his lap, petting him while he stirred a stew pot over the fire. Although she didn’t allow it, Aria felt the corner of her mouth lift in a small smile at the image, before turning her back on them and settling down for the night. 

            It took her a moment to realize that Tarric was speaking to her, she raised her head and looked at the other, “What is it?”

            He motioned to the wall she was resting beside, making her look up and realize it was a large relief and mural of the snow elf prince again. This time it was of him sitting on his throne, showing the closing of two massive doors and the same bright thing shining from behind the doors. The snow elf prince had his hand drawn out in front of his chest, and it seemed to Aria that the doors were closing all by themselves, which could have been metaphorical. Above the mural was another key piece lodged firmly out of reach and inside the stonework, below it was their next riddle.

            Aria squinted at the riddle and frowned at it while she tried to read it in the flickering light of the fire behind her.

 

            _Soft and fragile is my skin_

_I grow in earth and in the mud_

_I am pretty and red, sharp as a pin,_

_Better be careful or I will draw blood._

           

She grumbled at the vague riddle, far too tired to want to try to solve it now, she waved it off and ignored Tarric’s concerned stare, before shifting a little and curling up to sleep.

 

  

            Tarric watched as Aria curled up and fell into a sleep, he could hear her breathing slow ever so slightly as she passed out from exhaustion. He himself was also tired, though his stomach wanted to be settled before he could rest, and he was sure Ragnar needed food too.

            He had noticed that ever since Windhelm, Nightingale had been particularly silent. Although it would have been hard to talk at all through the blizzard howling above them at the mouth of the cave. They had managed to find the cave with Nightingale’s sense of direction, and Tarric hadn’t been so glad to see a hole in the ground as he had that night; even the horses whinnied in relief when they were brought out of the biting wind.

            Now settled down in the warmth of the cave, the horses resting nearby and Ragnar the rabbit asleep on his shoulder, Tarric had a rare chance to think.

            Nightingale had seemed so shocked that he had actually kept his word, helping her escape the dungeons and saving her from a deathly fall. He hadn’t seen her this quiet before, since normally if he spoke she would always come back with some snippy retort. Yet now she just agreed or waved off any of his words before turning back to silence, and somehow it bothered Tarric.

            He also wondered why he couldn’t seem to get the other’s name from her, knowing her only as Nightingale, Tarric wanted to know more about her. If they were going to travel for a whole lot longer than they already had, he wanted to know her real name. Though whenever he tried to bring it up, she would refuse downright or something would happen to distract from the answer. This also frustrated Tarric, for he preferred being honest with people, but wasn’t used to people being so secretive towards him.

            Yet, he had to take into account what kind of profession she was in. Nightingale always told him how dangerous her line of work was, how he couldn’t understand the value of your real, let alone full name, and how it could easily get one killed. She seemed to like reminding Tarric of this, and he had soon stopped asking, but that never meant he stopped wondering.

He couldn’t quite explain it, but he didn’t exactly hate her anymore, she was willing to help him and willing to let him have the journal once this whole venture was over. Tarric felt that he respect her abilities; able to keep calm in such a situation where she was being threatened and insulted, able to seemingly fool some very intelligent people and get out of some of the toughest situations with more than just mere wit, but with incredible physical prowess. He was more than impressed, and somehow he had come to even admire her logical, cool-headed nature, even if she was willing to explode in a fiery rage whenever angered. It was interesting to him and also frightening, and with this Tarric instantly put a stopper into his thoughts, his hand reaching up and petting Ragnar’s ears softly while he fell asleep.

  
             As he drifted, his drooping eyes fell on the graceful curve Nightingale’s shoulders, and one last thought drifted through his mind before he gave way to sleep. _Was she always that captivating?_

 

* * *

 

            Aria woke to the smell of cooking food and her stomach instantly howled and roused her from her sleep. She stretched and groaned softly, pushing off her roll and looking up to see Tarric, rabbit resting on his lap munching on a berry, stirring a pot of last night’s dinner. The other smiled and nodded to her in greeting, while Aria nodded her head and rubbed a sleepy eye.

            “Good morning, sleep well?” Tarric laughed as he heard her yawn.

            Aria sighed, “No… my back is sore and I feel like I could eat an entire warren of rabbits,” she smirked at the indignant grunt from Ragnar and stretched her arms, “well, that’s what I get for going to sleep without food,” 

            “Ah, well good thing you woke up now then. Breakfast is all ready,” he dished out a bowl of stew and handed it to her with a grin before pouring his own.

            Her brow furrowed only a little, “You’re surprisingly chipper this morning, what’s gotten into you, doggy?”

            Tarric just shrugged, “We’ve found two keys out of nine so far, and we’re about to get the third,” he smirked and ate his food, chewing thoughtfully, “I think I can be happy about that, don’t you?” 

            The thief smiled beneath her mask, a red strand of her hair falling before her eyes, “True, we are making progress. Though I would think you’d be all upset over becoming a fugitive from Windhelm,” 

            “Nah, the Stormcloaks can eat my snow if that’s any comfort to you,” he gave Ragnar another berry before leaning back, “besides, I don’t care what they think,”

            Aria laughed, “You’re well on your way to becoming a thief after all,” 

            “Oh please don’t tell me that, I’ll get nightmares,”

            The two of them finished their food in silence, the both of them cleaning up and packing away their items as soon as they could before turning to the relief in the wall. Aria noted that this time the piece was well-set into the stone and certainly she wouldn’t be able to climb up to dislodge it at all, leaving them with the infuriating riddle. Though she found she was getting used to answering these things, and rather better at them too.

            “So, what has soft, fragile skin and grows in the mud?” she looked at Tarric questioningly.

            He frowned, “I know _nothing_ with skin that grows in mud…” 

            She smirked and shook her head, “What about dangerous and pretty?” 

            “And can draw blood? Sounds a lot like you,”

            Aria raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms across her chest, “I wouldn’t push it pooch, or I may just draw blood,” she looked back at the wall and frowned at the words, trying to think of what it could be and her mind coming up with nothing. 

            Tarric scoffed, “Well you are a bit of a stick in the mud…” he looked up at the wall with her while she shook her head, “wait a moment…” he paused and peered into the corners of the relief and ran his hand along the walls, Aria followed his gaze but didn’t understand what he was doing. Tarric’s finger’s traced the outer framework of the relief and made a short humming sound in his throat. “These are plants… plants grow in mud right?”

            She thought for a moment, “True, and most are delicate and pretty,”

             He waved his hand in acknowledgement, “Yes, yes I know that! But this one is particularly known, something anyone would get,”

            “Wait… I’ve got it!” Aria’s sudden shout made him jump, “It’s a thorn bush! They’re prickly and deadly, but they can look pretty,”

            Tarric nodded but also put up his hand, “Close, not all view them as pretty, plus they don’t have fragile skin,”

            “It’s some kind of flower then?”

            “Yes! That’s it!”

            “But most flowers are pretty,”

            Then Tarric jumped and pounded his fist into his palm, “It’s right there in the riddle! ‘Blood’! That’s it! The colour of blood is red, right? What well-known, dangerous flower is pretty and fragile?” he smiled as a look of realization crossed Aria’s face. 

            “A rose!” they both shouted in unison, and almost immediately the stone shifted and the key piece turned in its spot.

            Yet just when they were holding out their hands, the piece stopped and to both Aria’s and Tarric’s amazement, the stone writing in the wall changed to something new. Aria almost screamed in dismay when a _second_ riddle chiseled itself into the stone before them, shorter now, but still on the rock before them nonetheless.

            “What?” She cried in shock when the rock settled and she smacked her fist against it, only to regret the action and pull her now throbbing hand away.

            Tarric sighed, “I guess it’s not as simple as we thought,” he murmured. Aria grumbled something incoherent and whipped out her book to translate the riddle that had just appeared, frustrated with whomever this damned prince had been. Once translated, she shut the journal with a _snap!_ and read the riddle aloud for the both of them.

 

            _To you, rude would I never be,_

_Though I flag my tongue for all to see._

 

            “That’s obvious, it’s you,” she growled at Tarric humerously, a small smirk tugging beneath her mask when he turned his head to her in offence. 

            “I’m not like that!” he unconsciously put a hand to his mouth, muttering about not ‘flagging his tongue for all to see’.

            Aria paused, “That’s it! It’s you!” she laughed.

            Tarric looked immediately offended and stood a little higher, “I _beg_ your pardon? _Me?_ I don’t do all of that! I’m not rude and nor do I flag my tongue—” 

            “No! No! Not you specifically!” she snapped, smiling “No, what I _call_ you! You’re a fleabag! You’re a _dog!_ ” and with that the piece above them gave one last final turn, clicked in the wall and slowly fell out of its hold. But instead, Aria stepped away and Tarric caught it in his hand, though it was more like it fell there and he jumped when he actually caught it.

            He looked between her and the piece, completely baffled, “What…?” 

            She just shrugged, “You got this one, mutt,” and she crossed her arms behind her back and strolled away, going back to the fire and leaving Tarric behind in stunned silence.

 

* * *

 

            They decided to remain in the cave that night again, the blizzard outside a little lessened than the night before, but still treacherous. They were fine on food until they reached Winterhold, where they would resupply on whatever they could and then head for the next piece of the key. Aria’s map told them it was outside of Dawnstar, somewhere west of the northern coastal town, but other than that it told them nothing else.

            Aria sipped at a hot soup Tarric had made, the warmth of it seeping into her skin and chasing out some of the cold. She had to admit; the former guard was a very good cook. She curled her cloak about herself while she watched the fire dance before her, feeling the most relaxed she had ever been in a long, long time.

            “Nightingale…?” she heard Tarric’s tentative voice and looked up, it was rare for him to be so quiet.

            “What?”

            “I figure you’ll say no anyways, but I might as well try,” he sighed, petting a sleeping Ragnar in his lap, Aria still didn’t understand why he brought it along. Tarric waited; letting his words hang in the air before continuing, “Will you tell me your real name? You don’t need to tell me your whole name, just your first,”

            His question took her off guard, despite having asked her before. Aria blinked at him, lost for words for a few seconds before she returned her gaze to the fire, “I guess there’s no hurt in you knowing only my first name,” she traced a circle in the dusty ground with her finger, “besides, we’ll be traveling for a while and you might as well know it,” 

            Tarric seemed to brighten a little, but other than that he remained still, waiting patiently for the rest of her answer to surface. Aria had to laugh inwardly; he really was like a dog, waiting for a bone or something to chew on.

            “My name is Aria,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man... long wait again.
> 
> I've been working on my novel lately so that's why!! But don't worry, I'm not forgetting about Aria and Tarric, I think I'm loving them too much to forget~
> 
> I'll try to update sooner next time, but in the meantime, HERE YOU GO~
> 
> Funny... for chapter seven, it was only seven pages while I was writing it. HAHAH.


	8. Don't Get to Close

She swore she was going to kill the rabbit.

It had been three days since the last key and puzzle, three days since Aria had told Tarric her actual name, and three days of sheer insanity wrought upon her by a certain little brown rabbit. Aria was at the end of her rope, first waking up each morning to a nice furry rabbit bum in her face, her nose was sore from being kicked whenever Ragnar leapt off to hide in Tarric’s sleeping roll. Each morning it was the same and Aria was finding that her sense of smell was strangely geared towards rabbits now, and nothing else. 

They had made a short stop for lunch when Ragnar snuck over and stole her slice of bread without her even noticing until she saw him hopping away with it. Even when she got up and threw a knife at it the rabbit didn’t seem phased and dodged it, grunting indignantly before sitting down near Tarric. 

“I’m going to make stew out of it! And a pair of gloves to go with it!” she snarled when the rabbit snorted and Tarric laughed. “Don’t encourage it! That _thing_ is your pet, control it!”

Tarric shook his head, eating his own bread and tossing Aria a piece, “Oh come on, it’s his way of showing affection,”

Aria just picked up her knife, cleaned it off and speared her new bread slice with it, “No. That animal is turning out to be a better thief than I thought… keep it on a leash or I’m making good on my promise.” She growled, chewing rather angrily.

Her companion just shook his head and went back to his food while petting Ragnar’s ears. Aria glared once more at the rabbit before stuffing the last bit of bread into her mouth. 

The three travelers had made their stop just a few miles from Dawnstar, the cold snow shining bright in the midday sun and a short but harsh wind whipping their cloaks every now and then. Aria wasn’t a fan of the snow, but weather like this was acceptable to her, she could at least feel her fingers, and that was a plus. She leaned back and looked up at the gray-blue sky, sighing lightly while she fixed her mask a little, glad that it was keeping most of the wind from her face. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, the cracked, dry skin making her feel a little uncomfortable but not enough to keep that thought in her mind for long. 

She hadn’t been sure how Tarric would react to knowing her real name, and it somewhat bothered her how happy he was when she told him. Aria had spoken quietly and the moment she said her name Tarric seemed to light up like a child who had been given a whole bag of septims and told to run wild in a bakery. It had puzzled her, but somehow she felt a small spark of warmth in her chest when he actually looked genuinely happy about it.

 _He’s too much like a puppy, happy about almost anything._ She shook her head as she barked a quick order to pack up, throwing her cloak over her shoulder while she got up, shivering in the cold, biting wind and mounting up onto her horse. Tarric soon ate the rest of his food and jumped into the saddle, Ragnar sitting comfortably with him and Aria swore she saw the rabbit grinning.

They moved along the snow-covered road in silence, the both of them used to it by now, especially since Tarric had stopped pestering her about every little thing. It surprised Aria again at how he had ceased in asking her a million and one questions, allowing for a more pleasant ride. The sun was still high in the sky, the wilderness stretched out before them on either side of the small path. Here and there were scraggly bushes with a few snowberries on them and dead trees, the occasional log buried in the snow laid near the pathway and the horses had to skirt around them. Another gust whipped into their faces as the travelers rounded a corner in the path around a small hill, Tarric let Ragnar climb into his cloak, keeping him warm while they moved through the icy wilderness.

It wasn’t long before they encountered a lonely, traveling bard, humming softly through his thick cloak of furs. He waved to them cheerfully and Tarric waved back, Aria keeping to herself while the bard paused to make light, passing conversation with Tarric.

 “So, where’ bouts are you two headin’? Come from Riften for a honeymoon?” the bard asked casually, making Aria cough and Tarric’s face flush. He threw up his hands and denied any such attachment to Aria, while the thief just pressed her thumb and index finger to her temples.

The bard laughed and shook his head, “Anyways, if you aint newlyweds I trust yer headin’ on up to Dawnstar for ‘te mining? Just be careful there, I hear some crazed thieves attacked Windhelm just about a week ago, wouldn’t happen ter know anything’?” he looked at the two of them.

Tarric shook his head, though the both of them were inwardly laughing and cringing at the same time, “No, nothing about it. Sounds like quite the upheaval,” he laughed nervously and the bard laughed with him.

“Alright, yer best bein’ careful now ye hear? Make sure not ter get robbed!” he waved as he went on his way, humming to himself.

They waited until he was out of earshot before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. The two of them hooting while they glanced at one another in amusement, Aria putting a hand to her mask while Tarric leaned back in his saddle and sighed with a big grin on his face and breathed in deeply, still laughing.

“Oh gods, we’re infamous now,” he ran a hand over his face and chuckled again.

Aria shook her head, “We caused a real commotion, they heard about it already up in Dawnstar! I should pay you, you’re giving my reputation a boost,”

“I should start charging,” he smirked over at her, Ragnar shifting and grunting at their loud guffaws.

“You should start a _business,_ Tarric’s Reputation Boost Business, need a better reputation? We have you covered!” the laughter broke out again and Aria had to lean over her horse’s neck and hold a hand over her stomach to keep herself balanced.

Tarric sniffed between laughing fits, “Thieves are charged extra!”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” she steered her horse closer and smacked him in the arm, Tarric yelped and rubbed at the sore spot, before hitting her back. Aria stared at him in stunned amusement, “Not afraid to hit a woman I see!”

“Oh come on, you’re no woman you’re a vixen!”

“Take that back!” She smirked, though he couldn’t see her mouth he saw her eyes spark beneath her reddish bangs.

He held up a fist, “Never!” 

It neared late evening by the time the both of them mastered their laughter and arrived on the outskirts of Dawnstar. Feeling tired but in good spirits, they rode into the small, seaside town and tied their horses outside the inn. Aria paused on the porch to the inn, looking out over the town below the hillside and out to the ocean. She had only been able to see the ocean a few times in her life, and whenever she did she always had to admire the great expanse of open water. Aria smiled beneath her mask, before turning and following Tarric into the inn, feeling just about ready for a good drink and a warm bed for the night.

  

* * *

 

It had been a day since their arrival in Dawnstar, both Tarric and Aria content to rest for one and then get back to their key search the next. Tarric was readying himself for bed that night, happy from a day of resting and roaming about town while Aria restocked their food and supplies at the inn and The Mortar and Pestle. He had gone back to the inn around dinnertime and found that Aria hadn’t returned, so he had helped himself to a meal and fed Ragnar, who had soon become friends with one of the town children who stopped in for a bite of bread.

It was now nearing midnight and he still saw no sign of Aria, wrestling Ragnar away from the child, who had fallen asleep by the fire, he put the rabbit onto his pillow and stroked his ears. It was moments later that he heard a commotion from the main hall and he frowned, getting up and moving to the door to see what was going on.

It was Aria, apparently she had been sitting by the fire the entire time and Tarric hadn’t seen her. A large man, seemingly a guard, was standing over her, seeming to make light conversation with her, but she didn’t seem to be enjoying it. He then tried to put a hand on her shoulder; slowly he was moving lower to her waist and Aria barked a short remark, pushing the man off. Around the inn there were quite a few other patrons, so the bartender couldn’t see much of what was going on just yet.

The guard didn’t seem to give up grabbing hold of Aria’s chin and trying to pry off her mask to get to her face, Tarric instantly felt angry and strode forward purposefully. His eyes sparked and as he crossed the room the mask came flying off and Aria instantly shot up, covering her face and making a grab for it. The guard just grabbed her wrist and twisted it around her back while he tried to bring her up to him. 

That was when Tarric’s fist connected to the man’s jaw. Hard. 

The man went backwards, letting go of Aria’s wrist and dropping her to the floor since she was off balance. He stepped between the man and Aria, picking up her mask as he held it to her, not looking at her face, she was covering her face anyways. “Go back to the room and shut the door,” 

“I can handle myself—”

“Just. Do. It.” He interrupted her sharply, and for once Aria stopped and nodded as she went to the room, shooting dark glares over her hand at any who looked at her in pity, shattering any thoughts like that they might have had.

Getting back his balance, the guard rubbed his jaw and growled at Tarric, “You wanna go kid? Cause I can take down a milk-drinker like you in seconds.”

Tarric squared his shoulders, “What do you think the punch was for?” he snarled at the man.

The guard huffed before throwing himself at Tarric, punching at his head. Tarric was only just able to dodge and throw in three punches to the man’s chest, knocking him back just as he took one to the shoulder.

“Come on! Take him!” 

“I’m bettin’ on the big one!”

“Is that the best you’ve got? Hit him again!”

A crowd had gathered despite the barkeepers shouts to take it outside, Tarric wouldn’t cause much more trouble. Instead he would end this here and now, he had had enough of this.

Tarric grunted and feinted to his left, only to clap the man on his right ear, then got him on the left when he recoiled. Tarric quickly worked to immobilize the man, landing a crushing kick to the top of his left knee before spinning around the man quickly to hit the back of both of his knees to send him to the floor. Within seconds the man was dazed, his ears ringing and his eyes wide in shock. Tarric swiftly moved around the man and kicked him to the ground within seconds, stunning the crowd and the man at the same time.

He huffed and straightened himself, rubbing his shoulder and stepping over the fallen guard. The inn had gone silent now, all of them staring incredulously at Tarric while he moved to the barkeep.

“Sorry about the mess,” he tossed the man a few septims and went back to his room, opening the door and shutting it with a short sigh.

Aria was sitting on her bed, watching him as he came into the room, she had put her mask back on and was waiting quietly for Tarric to come back. She said nothing as Tarric locked the door and moved over to his own bed, slumping down in the straw mattress and groaning as he felt a bruise starting to form where the other man had punched him. He rubbed at the sore joint and groaned, rolling his arm just a little.

There was a short silence between them, it wasn’t for a few more seconds of quiet until he heard, “Thank you…”

He looked up and grinned, waving it off lightly, “Don’t worry about it.” And that was all they exchanged for the rest of the night. Though Tarric felt a warm, soft feeling blossom in his chest and he felt his smile widen while he basked in her thanks, though he wasn’t too sure why he was so happy to hear those words from her.

 

* * *

 

The cold wind bit at Aria’s eyes; blinking away the cool air she shook her head of snow. It was late afternoon and they had found the next cave, having set out late that morning for the next key piece location. She had let Tarric sleep in a little longer; she felt that she owed him from the night before.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t been able to handle herself; she probably would have had a dagger to that man’s throat in seconds if he hadn’t put her arm behind her back. Not many think to try that with her, since many men see her willowy, yet lean figure and think of her as too weak to fight back. Instead this man had gone straight for immobilization, and it had frightened her, especially when he managed to pry off her mask.

But what had truly shocked her was Tarric, leaping between her and her assailant, he hadn’t even tried to look at her face, which she refused to show him. When she had gotten back to the room she had shut the door, and allowed her legs to give way beneath her. It had been a long time since she had felt like that, helpless. 

It infuriated her.

Shaking her head again, she cleared the thought from her head as they looked over the mural where the key-piece was trapped. They had found the cave, and now it was time to solve the riddle, not dwell on what happened the night before.

Aria looked at the text and slowly translated it with the journal, reading it aloud to Tarric.

 

_“A serpent swam in a silver urn_

_A golden bird did in its mouth abide_

_The serpent drank the water, this in turn_

_Killed the serpent. Then the golden bird died.”_

Tarric put a hand to his chin and thought, while Aria shut her book and sat down on a rock nearby. She tried to come up with an answer, but her thoughts were clouded and confused while she watched Tarric pace the room. No one but her brother had jumped in to help her like that, sure Brynjolf would have helped and so would a few people she knew, but no one would have had the look on their faces like Tarric did. She had caught a short glimpse of the rage that had clouded his green eyes, frightening her just a little for she was so used to seeing his puppy-dog like face.

Exchanging her thanks had been harder than she ever thought, for seeing him walk in after hearing the fight outside, she had thought for sure that he had lost and that the other man would appear from the door to finish what he had started. Yet relief and gladness had washed over her when Tarric came in, she almost felt like a little girl again. She had barely slept that night either, her thoughts keeping her up until early morning,

Tarric jolted her out of her thoughts when he smacked his hands together, “A lamp! An oil lamp! The snake is the wick and the golden bird is the flame! When the wick falls into the oil the fire dies, it’s an oil lamp!”

With his words there came a short clicking sound and the key piece rolled out of its socket and into his outstretched hand. Tarric held it up with a proud smile, and Aria laughed, “Good job. You solve these so easily it’s frightening,”

He shrugged, “I used to read riddle books, I got really good at it I guess.” For once, Aria just smiled and laughed gently, no smart retort other than a quick nod of the head. She saw Tarric’s cheeks flush only a little, making her smile a little more even though he couldn’t see.

They both returned to Dawnstar, content to just relax until the next day when they would head out for the next piece location. They arrived back in town and Tarric instantly went to fetch Ragnar, who had spent the day in the care of the child who stayed in the inn sometimes. Taking their dinner in their room, for a few people threw them scrutinizing, and some wary looks. It was a good thing they were skipping town the next day, all the eyes on her were making Aria nervous. 

She looked up from her plate and saw Tarric feeding a snowberry to Ragnar, who was nibbling happily on one already, his little nose stained with berry juice. She inclined her head to Tarric, “Tarric, why did you want to be a guard, really? That man last night was a guard, you wanted to be like that?”

Tarric finished feeding the berry to Ragnar and shook his head, “No, of course not. I never wanted to hurt people, only to help,” he glanced at her, “I thought I told you?”

“Yes, you did, but your story seems a little empty,” she sipped at her wine, the bitter taste bothered her, but it made her ears tingle happily.

Her companion sighed and rubbed one of Ragnar’s darker ears, “Well, I originally wanted to be a guard because it paid better than my father’s job. We were really poor and I wanted to get a good job so I could help my father keep food on the table. But when he didn’t come back from a fishing trip, mother was distraught. Three years she waited for him, and eventually she killed herself and left my sister and I alone,” he shrugged and ran a hand through his lengthening hair, “The rest you know, I guess I just wanted to help others because I couldn’t help my family. I want to keep those I care about safe, and that’s how I thought I could do it,”

Aria felt a sharp, short pain lance through her chest. She had felt the same way once. Her little brother had been her life and light, and when he died she had turned hard and cold, probably the exact opposite of Tarric. Somehow she felt she wanted to tell him, do what he did and just become an open book and tell him her own story.

The feeling was suppressed almost the moment it rose. Aria shoving it into a dark corner in her chest and strapping it down in thick chains, there was no way she was going to spill her guts just because she related to someone. Instead she just hummed a short agreement while she sipped at her wine.

Yet even then she could feel the chains weren’t as thick as she thought, and already they were starting to break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long wait! Life stuff popped up and I wasn't able to post this D8  
> Anyways, these two are just... loveable dorks. Even Ragnar (who will have a bigger part, I SWEAR...) I wonder what would happen if he went missing and somehow Aria managed to buy rabbit mittens at that exact moment... I'm sure Tarric would have a fit.
> 
> I also totally, TOTALLY got Tarric to pull a Han Solo. I feel so proud of myself~


	9. Roots and Rats

“I’m telling you, it will be fine. They’ve probably forgotten by now anyways and moved on,” Aria reassured a rather nervous Tarric. They were leaving the open and tundra-like lands of Whiterun Hold for the frostier regions of Hjalmarch and further north to Haafingar Hold to Solitude.

Tarric, on the other hand of Aria’s more-than-less chipper mood, was holding a cloak about his shoulders as they traveled into the Haafingar Hold, his eyes looking about warily and his body tense as a bowstring. He clearly didn’t want to be here, and Aria refused to let him stay in Whiterun, where they had previously stayed. The two had gone south to Whiterun to retrieve the fifth piece of the key, finding it eventually in a long, winding cave made into a bandit den. Aria had been frustrated enough with getting through on her own, but she had also had to keep Tarric out of sight in order to get to the end of the cave and retrieve the key. They had eventually been discovered by Tarric sneezing _very_ loudly, and instead of fighting through, as Tarric wanted they dashed out, Aria hauling the slashing former guard with her.

Now Tarric’s mood was taking a dive for the dramatic, he was eating slowly and barely paid attention to Ragnar, who wasn’t enjoying his foul mood in the least. Even Aria was finding she preferred the poking, prodding Tarric better than the brooding

It was an hour and a half before the walls of Solitude could be seen from a distance, another two before they managed to spot the farm outside the city and the tall tower. Tarric became increasingly nervous, even as they passed some hold guards on the road, yet they only kept walking or, on occasion, waved a friendly greeting.

 _What did I tell him? They’ve forgotten and moved on! These guards all have slow and short memory spans, it comes as no surprise._ She sighed when Tarric jumped at a short ‘hello’ from one of the guards, Aria saved him the trouble of responding and nodded a short reply back. Her companion continued to become even tenser the closer they got to the city, until Aria finally turned in her saddle.

Ragnar’s ears were laid back against his head, Tarric’s hand gripping the saddle horn in front of him so tightly that his knuckles were white from loss of circulation. Aria sighed, “Tarric!” she snapped loudly, jolting the other up and forcing him to look at her.

“What?” his voice octave was higher than usual and his face was pale.

“By the nine, are you going to act like this in every city? Calm down! They wont recognize you, so take a breath and get a grip,” her gaze was sharp enough to cut as she glared back at him from her saddle, “Besides, Fuzzy there looks like he’s about to abandon ship, you’re freaking out your own pet, Tarric,”

The other paused and looked down at Ragnar, who glanced up at him before shifting a little, his ears still pinned back. Tarric gently touched the rabbit’s ears, smoothing them and rubbing one of them as his shoulders started to relax. “S-sorry…”

Aria sighed, “Better. Now we can’t be saying actual names, so you’ll be Tari and I’m Gale, we’re just simple mercenaries come to do a little job hunting, alright?” she looked him over to see any bit of recognition in his face, “Right?”

Tarric nodded, his eyes coming up to meet hers, “Yes, sorry,”

Her eyes softened only a little and she shook her head, “Honestly, you’ll be alright. You got me out of Windhelm, so I promise you’ll get out of here alive, and with all your limbs and head attached,” she grinned and scoffed, making Tarric smile just a little. “Besides, we’re lying low in the market for one day, grabbing the key piece and supplies, and checking out. We’ll be gone by midday on the third day,”

This seemed to help a little, the man appeared to relax a little more as they neared the first set of gates and dismounted, leaving the horses in the care of the farm owners they walked up to the city gates. Once inside they were met with a warm ray of sunshine and the smell of smoke and freshly baked bread. Apparently it was market day, all the normal stalls were chock full of produce from the farmlands around the hold, fish from the boats at the marina, weapons brought in on the ships and other merchandise like jewelry and potions. People bustled about, doing their shopping and preparing for winter ahead by purchasing salted meats, fish, vegetables and salt. It actually relaxed Aria to see so many people; her old memories of living on the streets with her brother came rushing back. She remembered picking people’s pockets for extra septims, sometimes pulling stunts while her brother stole bigger things from stalls while the crowds watched her. She smiled at the thought, before waving it away like an annoying waft of pipe smoke in her face. The past was the past, and now she needed to focus on the present.

The both of them took up a small room in the Winking Skeever, setting down their measly bags of supplies and grabbing a table and a drink. Tarric was asked several times if Ragnar was a contribution to the stew, bubbling happily over a cook fire, but he hugged the little rabbit to him and promptly said he wasn’t for eating, though Aria could disagree.

Managing to rest after so long being on the road, they enjoyed warm meals, ordered from the innkeeper and brought by his little daughter on trays. Tarric ate his slowly, offering one of the grilled leeks to Ragnar, who nibbled on it contentedly. Aria ate quietly in the corner, observing the door and all the goings-on from where she was sitting, making sure she could see a threat coming if it decided to appear.

Once finished with their meal Aria suggested they rest, it was early evening and they had been traveling almost non stop since the day before. She could barely remember the last time she slept on a soft bed, or a bed in general, since Dawnstar. Tarric had locked the door and shut the window, and even before that she was already drifting, her eyes drooping and her body finally relaxing as she drifted into a light, restful sleep.

  

* * *

 

 

The morning was cold and crisp, their breath clouding in front of their faces like tiny wafts of smoke. Aria remembered that when she was a child, barely over six, she would pretend she was a great dragon, blowing smoke from her nostrils and fanning her torn blanket as her strong wings. Now it was all but warm vapor to her, the world having hardened such an imaginative mind.

 _Though I like to think I’ve kept my imagination, I just use it for… other things,_ she grinned while they rode a little northwest of the Shrine to the Daedric Prince Meridia, a frigid breeze blowing new fallen mountain snow into her face and down her mask. Around the two companions rose thick walls of rock and ice; only strong pine and fir trees grew here, where they could survive the cold and unforgiving temperatures and climate. Aria could see a fox sniffing through the snow in search of mice in the bushes; the animal stopped and regarded them with its wily eyes, its dark orange fur standing out in the white and gray environment. The fox flicked its bushy tail and sniffed, going back to its hunting and ignoring the two travellers.

Ever since they had roused that morning, Tarric had grown less tense, allowing Aria to relax somewhat. She glanced towards him and smirked; he was riding close by with his cloak pulled up around him and half asleep since she had woken him up early. Ragnar was nestled around his shoulders and under the cloak, the rabbit’s fuzzy little ears poking out from the collar of his cloak and making it look like Tarric had rabbit ears. Aria couldn’t help but smile at the look of it, she turned and they continued on until she saw a rock formation ahead that didn’t look like natural stone. Instead, they came up to the top of the snow-covered hill and looked down on a circular temple, spiralling into the ground and into the dark.

“Looks like we’re here, different than usual huh?” she smirked as she pulled her horse to a halt, the animal bobbing its head and snorting a cloud of vapor into the air.

Tarric looked at it, his gaze scrutinizing and his eyebrows tucked in towards his nose in a frown, “Well, it’s certainly interesting. A whole lot more intricate than the others we’ve been too,” the both of them moved their horses down the slope towards the spiraling stairs, “Are you sure it’s the right place?”

The thief held out the journal and tapped it, “Yes it says right here. Besides it’s not like there’s anything else nearby that’s any more obvious, it works,” as they neared the stone structure they stopped the horses, their hooves crunching in and stirring up the new snow. Aria swung down out of her saddle, landing lightly on the ground below while her dark cloak swooped around her to keep up. She straightened herself when Tarric joined her, the two companions turned and headed to, and down the stairs.

It smelled like water and moss on the outer staircase, the shadows darkening around Aria and comforting her. In the dark she was always safe, never did she feel threatened in the darkness for it cloaked her like a loving mother would wrap her child. Dark was truly the only comfort she had, a long time ago she would have counted her brother as a comfort as well, but that was long gone. Aria couldn’t care much for remembering, but strangely since she had started traveling with Tarric it had seemed to come back to her more easily than it ever had. She breathed deeply while moving deeper into the blackness, the smell in the air changed to that of earth and roots, the stone around them damp from the cold but strangely wet. Aria glanced at the walls and realized that the air around them was warm, up ahead she even spotted a light glow on the floor. The tunnel was just another five feet above her head, leaving enough room to stand and enough on the sides to allow Tarric to walk beside her with Ragnar still sitting on his shoulders.

Walking further, Aria found her boots scuffing on what seemed to be a solid, cobblestone floor instead of dirt, and above them were stones instead of roots. As the passage continued, now dotted here and there with strange, glowing lamps that Aria had never seen before, she could hear something. The sound was faint and melodic, but it didn’t come from any human or animal from the tone of it. Aria frowned as the light ahead grew a little brighter, the tunnel widening so that three horses could have passed easily through with room to spare.

“What on earth…?” Tarric muttered, the both of them stepping out into a large room and blinking in the glow of the many strange, flame-less lanterns. It was long and wide, the chamber, held up by long pillars of simple carven stone that were practically covered in roots from the vegetation that was above. Before them lay a set of stone steps, cracked in places and crumbling in others, that slid down the room to the floor that wound up to a large fountain. The fountain was at least the entire width of the room and situated at the far end, the water was crystal clear and poured in from two opposite sides, channeled from some underground river no doubt. The water was circulated through two metal grates on either side of a magnificent statue; it was that of a graceful woman, wrapped in nothing but a silk scarf and standing with her head tilted over her left shoulder, one graceful hand held to her breast and the other outstretched to hold something in her delicate stone fingers. Her eyes were cold stone, but Aria felt as if they were being watched, though she knew there was nothing else in the room but the three of them.

Aria switched her weight onto one hip and crossed her arms, looking at the sight, “It certainly is a sight, but I think she may need some more clothes. What do you think?” she glanced at him, the corner of her mask lifting to show she was grinning at him

“Oh sure, but I think she looks lovely the way she is,” he shrugged, his shoulders almost knocking Ragnar off. The rabbit sniffled his own little comment, only for himself it seemed since neither of them could understand him.

A scoff escaped Aria, “Of course you would think that, you men…”

“Is that a comment against men?”

“Oh yes it is, all of you pig-headed old hacks, obsessed with nothing but bouncing breasts and sloping hips,” she made her way down the steps, motioning to her own body and sliding her hands down her own hips while she did, making Tarric flush.

“That’s not true! What about you women? With all your ideas about men with thick-arms and bushy beards with those deep, thundering voices?” he snaked his right arm with his left and followed her down towards the fountain.

“Honestly, what woman told you _that_ fairytale?” she smirked.

Tarric grinned back at her, “Many women, I believe. What about you? Are those your ideas about perfect men?”

“Now, now… who said we were sharing ideal men and women preferences? No, not happening, my faithful doggy,” she waved a hand and he laughed while they approached the fountain, leaving the subject to stew in Tarric’s head.

When they got closer, Aria saw the tall mural behind the fountain, written with the same language as all the other riddles and carved with a relief of what seemed to be a faded, cracked map of Skyrim. Aria sat on the ledge and looked up at the woman, smiling as she spotted the key piece, dangling on a string from the outstretched hand of the statue.

 _She must have been a snow-elf deity, but it doesn’t say which or whom. Long forgotten it seems, how sad._ Aria looked at the root-decorated map where they could see the riddle they had to answer, immediately pulling out her translating book and matching letters and runes together to form the words of the riddle.

 

_I am, in truth, a yellow fork_

_From tables in the sky_

_By inadvertent fingers dropped_

_The awful cutlery._

_Of mansions never quite disclosed_

_And never quite concealed,_

_The tool of the dark_

_To ignorance revealed._

“Now if that isn’t a mind turner, I’m not sure what is,” she snapped the book shut and looked to Tarric, “What do you think this one could be?”

Tarric thought for a moment, “Well, it says ‘tables in the sky’… could it be some kind of magical relic from a god?” he looked up at the statue, his hand beneath his chin and his thumb tracing his bottom lip slowly. Aria had to admit he looked rather studious and refined in the position, wondering if he would make a good nobleman with the way he held himself sometimes.

“It also says it’s a fork… awful cutlery. But what is the rest of it? It doesn’t seem to make any sense,”

“I know… but it says at the end it’s ‘never quite concealed’, so it’s obvious to see, but not all the time. At least I think it’s what it means,”

Aria hummed as she crossed a leg and leaned back on both her hands, as she looked up at the fountain and the statue, liking the smell of the pure underground water. It was different, for a place like this, and it refreshed her. “But what kind of fork falls from the sky?”

Tarric paused, “Not an actual fork… it’s not a literal fork, but it’s a term used for something else,”

“What kind of non-literal fork falls from the sky in the dark?”

“Something yellow, Ah!” he jumped, “A fork in the sky that falls in the dark, never quite hidden but easy to see!” He looked at her, holding out a hand.

“Oh! I get it! Lightning! A fork of lightning has fingers, and only shows up for a mere second! And you’re ignorant before seeing it, because it only shows up in random places,” she smiled.

The former guard laughed, “Exactly!”

The both of them turned towards the statue and, in unison, shouted, “Lightning!”

Within seconds the fingers in the statue seemed to part and the piece fell to the foot of the statue with a clear chime. Yet, neither of them could reach it from the side. “Damn, now how do we get it?” Tarric looked down, realizing that the pool of water was deep and dark, and when his eyes scanned the dark he spotted a flash of scales. “Hold on, what was that?”

Aria frowned and watched the water, just as a massive fish swam by, mere feet from the surface. The creature looked ancient, it’s gray-green scales battered and it’s long, spines and fins looked like tattered and ripped cloth. The creatures powerful tail pushed it through the water with little effort, but even it’s size couldn’t distract from it’s ugly face. The fish’s jaw jutted forward and was filled with jagged, sharp teeth some the length of a two-handed sword and twice as thick, some longer. She instantly jumped away from the side with a cry, “Good gods, what _is_ that thing?”

“Well, some kind of fish it seems,”

She looked at him, “Really?” he laughed and shrugged, while Aria growled, “Don’t look at me, I’m not jumping in with _that_ in there!”

“Then how do you propose we get the key piece? We should be grateful it didn’t fall down into the water!”

Aria snarled and looked about, before spotting something, “I think I have an idea…” she moved over to a pillar completely covered in snaking, thick roots. The roots and stone extended up the pillar and across the ceiling, some of them almost as large as a small road. Aria grabbed hold of one of the thick roots and pulled, testing it to see how well it would hold, it barely moved. “I can climb up these and over to the statue, grab the piece and get back the same way,”

Tarric blinked, “Are you sure? One bad placed hand or foot, and you’re fish food,”

“It’s not that different than climbing a castle, you can always slip and die,” she started to climb, climbing up the pillar and across nimbly, carefully placing each foot and gripping tightly with both hands. “Though, this death is something less-desirable than most, but if I do die then I can tell Nocturnal and my fellow Sentinels about my strange death. I’m sure it would beat most-others,”

He laughed from below her, though he was tense as a bowstring as her path took her up and over the ceiling and over the fountain. Her cloak hung down from her back and dangled like bat’s wings. “Just be careful…” he held Ragnar, the rabbit also making a soft noise that somehow sounded like concern.

Aria grunted while she made it to the statue, “Why hello my lady,” she smiled at the statue and snaked down it to snatch the key piece. “That wasn’t so hard,” waving the piece in her hand, Aria gave Tarric a smug look before stowing into one of her secure pockets and moving up the statue to climb back.

Her shoulders were a little stiff, having not done any intense, gravity-defying climbing for some time. Aria rolled her shoulder as she jumped to a thick root and began her climb over again, glancing down at the fish below as it swam circles around the statue. She saw it glance up at her with one bulbous, white eye, and cringed. Her hand reached forward and she took hold of another root, but instantly heard a crackling and hissing noise.

Heart practically stopping in her chest, Aria froze as she felt the root above her shiver. Her eyes carefully traced the smaller root she had grabbed, and followed it up to the ceiling, and her heart did stop. The root had been eaten away by years of dry summers and little water, it was brittle and thin and she cursed herself for not seeing it before. One wrong move and it would crackle and fall apart, sending her falling to a watery grave.

“Shit…”

“I don’t like the sound of that, Aria,” Tarric muttered.

She didn’t even dare to speak, afraid that any vibration would cause it to break. Aria wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, completely frozen, trying to calculate the most life-preserving move she could do and trying to do it as fast as she could. Her eyes scanned ahead and caught sight of a wide root that extended all the way to the pillar she had climbed up. It felt like years, hanging there above the water, before Aria growled. She couldn’t stay there forever, so she decided on her path.

Tensing her legs like a spring, Aria paused, before launching herself towards the other root. A horrifying hiss filled her ears as the root she was crouched on crumbled and fell to the water, she raced towards the root before her as the smaller ones crackled and fell at her touch. Any prospective handholds vanished and she stretched her arms out to reach for the root. Managing to grab it, she sang in victory, before it suddenly broke.

She fell.

Aria couldn’t even let out a scream, too shocked that her calculations had gone wrong, that she was going to die. Her own weight brought her closer and closer to the water, she prepared for the fish’s jaws and teeth to close around her…

Instead she felt herself land in something warm, warm and dry. It took Aria a moment to realize that her eyes were shut; she opened them and looked up to see Tarric and Ragnar, the both of them looking just as worried as she had. Aria had somehow fallen to the side, and Tarric had caught her rather squarely in his arms.

Aria felt her cheeks flush and was happy that she was wearing a mask to hide it, the thief and the former guard stared at one another, before Tarric cleared his throat and gently set her down, “I-I told you it was dangerous. Are you alright?”

She nodded, “A little shaken, but thank you, again,”

“That’s two you owe me now,”

“Shut your mouth, Skeever breath, let’s get back to Solitude,”

  

* * *

 

 

Aria waited for Tarric, already having packed their travel packs she was sitting in their room at the inn, watching Ragnar as he sniffed about the room. Tarric had run out to grab a few more supplies at the market stalls before they left that night, feeling a little better about the guards forgetting him.

It had been a long time, and now Aria was getting worried.

She was just about to pull her hood up to head out and look for him when she heard a scream and a loud commotion outside the window. Aria frowned and tucked her hair back into the hood, picking up Ragnar and looking out to see a crowd on the street surrounding a small group of guards. She leaned a little out the window and saw a few people doing the same, and then she heard a shrill voice scream out.

“He killed him! Look! He’s holding the knife and everything! He’s murdered him!” Aria raised an eyebrow, a murder was always interesting, entertainment before they left.

The guards grabbed hold of someone’s arm and yanked the person upwards, “Is it true? Did you kill this man?”

“No! No I swear! I didn’t! It was an accident!” the man shouted desperately.

“He’s holding the knife! He did it!” screamed another bystander. “Murderer! Murderer!”

“No I didn’t!”

Aria found the man’s voice to be familiar, and when she finally got a glimpse of him her heart sank. It was Tarric, restrained by one guard with his hands covered in blood, a look of sheer horror written across his face.

 _Good gods, this is_ not _what we wanted! Oh by the nine…_ she watched as the guard hit Tarric in the back of the head and kicked his gut.

“Trying to lie to me, you’re going to the dungeons you filthy little liar,” the man snarled, “Take him away,”

“No! I swear! Please! Let me explain!” Tarric fought back furiously like a chained dog, his legs flailing and his head whipping about despite just being dealt a harsh blow. The guards holding him grunted and managed to hold him back before knocking the former guard unconscious. Tarric fell to the ground, limp and unmoving, a guard hoisted him up and another helped to carry Tarric away through the crowd. 

“By the nine, how are we getting out of _this_ one?” she looked at Ragnar, but the rabbit offered no reply. It seemed that no matter where they went, trouble seemed to follow them, and it had reared its ugly head once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH AGAIN. SORRY. It's been so long, but I made a nice chapter for you all! I was so stuck on things happening in this one, that I think I wrote too much, now I have to split them and write more for chapter 10! Oh man... HAHHA
> 
> Anyways, yup~ this was such a fun one to write... I love their dynamic, these two (three technically) dorks.


	10. An Eye for an Eye

A figure shuffled along the cobblestone floor, cloaked and hunched over with a small tray in their gloved hands. The hunched figure approached one of the guards near the jail door and coughed raggedly, holding the tray up just a little with a trembling hold on it.

“Food for the prisoner…” a raspy voice issued from beneath the hood.

One of the guards glanced to his companion, the other shrugging his shoulders and holding up his hand, “As long as it’s not long,”

The figure nodded and began to shuffle forward, when suddenly the door opened, “No. No food for the prisoner except what we have here. I wont risk anything, be gone,” he waved off the hunched person with the tray and slammed the door shut behind him with a deep, echoing slam. The two guards straightened themselves and sent the figure away a second time, suddenly acting firm where only moments before they had been so lax and lenient.

The figure shuffled away, disappearing into a shadowy alcove before the entryway, they straightened and slammed their fist rather violently into the cobbled stone wall. “Damn it!” the curse was quiet and hissed through their teeth furiously.

It had been two days since Tarric’s arrest; Aria had taken that morning to worm her way into the keep and down to the dungeons disguised as an old serving woman in a cloak. She had gone through all that work and she hadn’t even been able to _see_ Tarric, let alone get in to try to bust him out. There was no way he would know the symbols on any escape routes, let alone be able to spot them in the first place. The justice system still had yet to proclaim Tarric’s punishment for the murder in the marketplace, but Aria was already assuming the worst.

At first she thought that she could just leave Tarric, she had the book and she was sure she could go to Riften to grab Brynjolf to help solve riddles. Yet something was tugging at her, she didn’t want to leave Tarric to rot in a cell for a crime he had not committed. Another part of her was bringing up her brother; she couldn’t leave another companion behind in Solitude, again. Her head was confused and she couldn’t figure out why she felt a small pang in her chest, she shook it off like an annoying fly and refocused her mind.

 _They’ll most-likely read out his sentence later, probably in the evening._ She sighed gently and hunched her shoulders once more, fixing the hood over her shoulders she shuffled out of the dungeons. A small rustling sound came from the bag at her hip and Ragnar stuck his pink nose out and snuffled with a short grunt. Aria stuffed the rabbit back into the bag and shushed him, “Quiet! You want them to catch us?”

Ragnar only shuffled and nipped her hand, as if to say ‘only you.’ Aria just grit her teeth and ignored the rabbit, knowing that if she _did_ get Tarric out, he’d be thoroughly put-out if Ragnar vanished and Aria acquired a new set of furry socks.

Oh well, better save that for next time.

She managed to get back to the market and to a hidden cache near the back of Radiant Raiment where she had stowed their travel packs and gear. The Winking Skeever innkeeper had started giving her strange looks when she had come back with bloody hands the previous day after the guards had hauled Tarric off. She had only been inspecting the body of the ‘murdered’ stall keeper, but she didn’t want any unwanted attention, so she left.

Though her little escapade that cost her the room was rather beneficial, she had inspected the body and the wound was too clumsy. The knife still stuck in the flesh was buried deep and at an odd angle, it looked like the man had fallen on the knife instead of having been stabbed with it. On the upside she made note that the man was a butcher, in his early seventies, with several cuts and old scars on him already. He had been a clumsy man, so her guess was that he had somehow tripped and fallen into a knife he had been carrying, and Tarric had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

 _What’s worse is that I can’t even find a way into that accursed place… unless I got arrested myself and that’s out of the question._ Despite her thoughts she rolled that idea around in her head for a while, inspecting her pack and making sure everything was still there and then shouldering it and moving out of the alley into the street. 

She sat by the market stalls, nibbling on a strip of dried beef for the longest time, her mind working frantically on a plan to get Tarric out. Her mind worked so fervently, however, that she hadn’t noticed a small crowd gathering near the steps leading up to the second level and the training barracks. A man dressed in imperial armor strode forward, the glint of his heavier armor catching Aria’s eye and her attention. She slowly rose and followed the procession of people gathering about to hear what kind of news the man carried with him.

Aria smacked a small child’s hand away from her purse, her eyes catching his and making him squeak and run from the crowd. Aria didn’t like the press of the people around her, but she swallowed her discomfort and ignored it for now.

“Listen up!” the man shouted, gaining the silence and full attention of the crowd, he unrolled a scroll and cleared his throat, “The accused man has been tried and charged with murder, Jarl Elisif declares he be put to death upon the next sunrise, by beheading. So I’m sure you’ll all enjoy a little early-morning show to start the day tomorrow!” He laughed cruelly and rolled up the parchment he was holding in his hand. 

Aria’s heart sank when she heard the man speak; she stood where she was as the crowd dispersed. People murmured excitedly, muttering and talking about the announcement as they went back to their activities. Aria stood and stared at the podium in surprise for the longest time. Something in her chest felt heavy, some harsh, weighted feeling of dread settled itself right between her breast and her heart and sat there like a toad. For a few seconds she couldn’t breathe right, and for another few seconds she wasn’t able to comprehend the announcer’s words. It was even longer before she finally was able to shake herself of her thoughts and actually start to think straight again.

 _Alright._ She stood up straight, her eyes sharp and cold while she fixed herself and tried her best to ignore that cold stone in her chest. _I have to get working on a plan, or else Tarric’s head will roll from his shoulders come morning._

 

* * *

 

 

Tarric ground his teeth and clenched his jaw tightly at the sound of a cell door opening with a dull shriek. The sound grated on his ears and he was tired from his lack of sleep so the sound only aggravated him more, pulling at the last threads of his resolve. He blinked away the grit in his eyes and sighed raggedly while the door opening somewhere made a loud clanking sound as it shut, Tarric could hear the sound of footsteps across the stone floor fade as they retreated from the prison area.

 _I’m going to either rot in here for the rest of my life, or lose my head, what an anti-climactic life this was,_ Tarric leaned his head back against his dark cell wall. Nearby there was only a trickle of cold, greenish light spilling from what seemed to be a tiny window too high up for him to reach or see out of. Tarric’s stomach growled and he gently brought up his hand to rub at his abdomen; he was glad he was allowed his clothing and armor, for now. Most of his items had been with Aria, which he was also glad for, but any kind of money he had kept on himself had been taken away, as well as his iron sword and his dagger he had hidden in his boot for emergencies.

He closed his eyes, _speaking of Aria… I bet she’s halfway to Markarth by now._ He found himself feeling disappointed that she hadn’t come to spring him out. The first day he had been kept in here he had expected her to be working out a plan, by the next day he was getting worried that she couldn’t get in. Then, by the second night he figured she had just abandoned him this time, leaving him to whatever the Solitude guards and justice system decided for him. 

Tarric sighed lightly; _I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s made it quite clear that it’s in her job not to trust people, and that she never gets close to anyone. That of course I’m certain of, it took me forever just to find out her_ name _, and I still haven’t seen her face and it’s been at least a month and a half, if not more!_ He hugged his knees to his chest, staring at the barred door across the cell from his corner, he couldn’t see much out of the door, only other cell doors in a circular chamber. _Though I’m a little disappointed, I can’t say I didn’t see something like this coming. It’s a thief’s nature to look after only their own skin,_ but he stopped himself in that thought. His mind suddenly pulled up the past month’s happenings without his permission, preventing him from steeping himself in cold, dark resentment. 

 _Wait… in Windhelm she could have easily gotten herself out, I’m sure of it. Even back in Rorikstead, Aria could have just let that guard beat me senseless and that would have been it. Yet, she didn’t, she saved my lousy hide more than once._ He felt the pit in his stomach drop a little lower while he buried his head in his arms against his knees, biting his bottom lip.

 _So then why abandon me now?_ That was when he felt the first burn of tears in his eyes, the first time since his sister had died.

 

* * *

 

 

Aria walked into the Winking Skeever around nightfall, the haze of drink, sweat, smoke and heat was already starting to thicken as some of the soldiers off-duty broke into the heavier meads and ales. She looked around for a moment, before spotting a familiar argonian in the alcove nearest to the door.

Slowly walking towards him, she pulled up a chair and sat down beside him, one slender leg crossed over the other, leaning back casually. She regarded him, he looked at her while nibbling on a piece of bread. His face was short and scaly, like most argonians, two thick horns protruded from his temples and merged with his eyebrows. The scales themselves on his body were a brownish-green, like the murky water of a lake that sat in the sun for too long. His shifty little eyes looked her up and down, one hand moving up to fix and fidget with the collar of his red tunic.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Nightingale?” his voice was raspy and baritone, again a very common argonian trait. He took another, larger, bite from his bread, sniffing lightly.

Aria huffed behind her mask, “No pleasantries tonight, Gulum-Ei, I’m here on business,”

“Really now?” his pleasant tone gave way to a slightly more back-alley rasp, “I was thinking you had finally developed some class, but I see I was wrong,”

“Shut your mouth and listen, I need certain supplies and right now you’re the only one who can get them to me before dawn tomorrow,” Aria knew that this wouldn’t be enough, but she was definitely prepared to deal with greasy folk like Gulum-Ei, she did it practically every day. 

 The argonian smirked, showing his short but pointed teeth, “Ah, now it would really depend on the items you were looking for. Be it of a business type, unsavory perhaps? Or maybe… romantic?” the lizard scoffed, his yellow eyes narrowing just a little, “I would never have taken the great Nightingale of our time to be so, kinky?”

Aria swore under her breath, “Listen you slimy bastard, I’m about three words away from slapping you so hard that you’ll have to talk with your head sideways for the rest of your life,” 

“Now that is a little too harsh, Nightingale,” he retreated just a little, throwing up one hand in defense as he relaxed against the chair; though his tense shoulders told her that he was anything _but_ relaxed. “What is it you need?” 

Discussing business always made Aria feel a little better, she tilted her head back and thought for a moment. She played with the hem of her cloak, “I need a length of rope, a low-priced, yet good iron dagger, and some kind of potion that I can use to get two people away from a large crowd,”

“Is that all? Gods Nightingale I thought you were here for something more than just a simple burglary job,” he scoffed and looked into one of his bags while he spoke.

“It’s not a burglary job!” she hissed, keeping her voice low, “I… I need to repay a debt to someone,”

Gulum-Ei raised an eyebrow, or eye scale, “You, in debt? The world definitely is turning on it’s heels, normally it’s the other guy who’s in debt to you is it not?”

“Enough, do you have the items or not?” the short reply spurred Gulum-Ei to move towards his bag again.

“Yes! Yes, by the eight your persistent,” he rummaged through his bag, “I have some rope, and a dagger, though your method for escape is going to be tricky. I have a potion that will make you invisible for fifty seconds, it’s a hard thing to come by nowadays,” despite his words, he didn’t produce the items right away.

Aria nodded, “Fine, how much for all three?”

Calculating in his head, Gulum-Ei paused before he looked at her, “Six-hundred,” 

Her jaw practically dropped, almost enough to knock her mask off, “What? Are you trying to bleed me dry you lecherous phony?” she snapped at him, her eyes furious.

“Listen, the bulk of that price is the potion. It’s not an easy item to come across, so I need to squeeze it for as much coin as I can, right? I can throw in a few... concoctions of my own for a bonus if you'd like,” he smirked, feeling his victory despite Aria’s anger. 

She hissed and shook her head, “Fine you pansy-eyed fuck-face, here’s the money,” she handed over the coin in a small leather pouch, “take it and give me the items, before I change my mind about how valuable you are to the guild,”

Gulum-Ei smiled sweetly, handing her the three items, “Pleasure doing business with you, Nightingale, as always,”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, looks like Tarric Mercius has finally decided to return home from whatever hole he crawled down,”

Tarric raised his head from his knees at the sound of a voice, his eyes felt puffy and he was sure there were bags beneath them. He looked up at the door to his cell and saw a man standing there, one a soldier dressed in light armor.

“Who… are you?” he said, his voice cracked and dry.

The man laughed. Tarric saw the light pick out some of his features, but he couldn’t make sense of them yet. “Been hanging out with thieves too much that you’d forget your own commander’s face? I’m ashamed of you, boy,” 

Realization dawned on Tarric and he leapt to his feet, albeit more like jumped and staggered to his feet, “Commander! Commander please, it’s not what you think! I’m serious, I didn’t kill that man!”

“Ah, just like you didn’t take that antique journal from the Jarl?” the man in the armor raised an eyebrow. Tarric could now see his incredibly short hair and gray eyes, square jaw and firmly set features of a seasoned veteran. He instantly felt ashamed, angry with himself for disappointing this man who he had originally strove to impress.

Tarric looked at his feet, “Sir, I mean this, I did not take it. I was trying to prevent a thief from stealing it and it became a big misunderstanding,”

“Yet you ran from Solitude, with the thief as I heard, and vanished for almost two months,” the older man rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, “explain _that_ , Mercius,”

“I ran because all of the other guards were chasing at me and hacking with swords, wouldn’t you run?” he growled lightly, growing more and more frustrated by the second.

The man sighed and shook his head, looking angrily at Tarric in disappointment, “I’ve had enough of your lies. All you are is a thief and a murderer, Mercius. You had us fooled for a long time, really you did,” he straightened, “I’m done here. Tomorrow morning you’ll face the divines in judgment, and none of your damned lies and thieving friends will be able to save you from them,” 

Tarric’s heart stopped, “What? But I didn’t kill that man!” he got up shakily and threw himself at the bars as the man walked away, “I didn’t do it! Please!” Though he pulled desperately at the bars his former commander just ignored him and left.

Something in Tarric snapped then, a dam in his heart cracked and let out a trickle of black, self-preserving thought. He ground his teeth, but this time in fury as he hissed through them and glared poison at the man he once thought was a teacher. “All of you betrayed _me!_ I gave you everything I was, and you spat it back in my face like I was some mangy dog you couldn’t care less about!” his former commander paused, glancing back at Tarric, “Well I have news for you, I’m sick and tired of following your damned rules, your _‘honour’_ is nothing but a pile of horseshit and blood. You can chew on _that_ while I laugh at you from beyond the grave!” 

With that, Tarric spat on the ground, hatred filling his green eyes as he retreated to the rear of his cell to the shadowed corner. If death was going to come for him at dawn, if Aria had truly abandoned him, then he would greet it with bared teeth and a fury in his heart.

 

* * *

 

 

The cool air filled the square at the front gate of Solitude; the upper platform of raised stone was bare aside from a cloaked priest and a man hefting an executioner’s axe. A small crowd had gathered in the shade of the walls to witness that dawn’s events, the people shuffling and murmuring in the crowd were eerily quiet as the first glow of dawn’s light peeked over the wall.

It was only a few seconds before two guards led a bound man through the crowd and up the steps. The murmurs grew louder while they passed between people, becoming louder and louder until someone shouted. 

“Murderer!”

“You deserve what you get!” 

“Die in pieces!”

“Boo!”

Tarric held his head high, the words bouncing off his newfound armor like arrows against a steel shield. He approached the block and stood there as a man, his former commander, stepped forward with a scroll in his hands.

“I expected better,” he said under his breath as he unrolled the scroll, Tarric didn’t even blink. “Tarric Mercius, charged with the crimes murder and theft from the Jarl Elisif, you have committed these crimes against Skyrim and her people and are a threat to the safety of all those you had once sworn your life to protect. With these charges you are sentenced this day to death by beheading, what say you?”

For once, he kept his mouth firmly shut in a tight line across his face. Clenching his fists Tarric raised his eyes to the shadow of the sun across the Winking Skeever’s roof, his heart faltering slightly as he thought of Aria. He could almost have sworn he saw a shadow move across the wall’s shadow behind them, but he ignored it and took it as a wishful hope before the jaws of death closed about hit throat.

“Very well. Proceed. And may the divines be merciful upon you,” the commander nodded to the executioner, who pushed Tarric to his knees before the block. 

Tarric sucked in his last breath, closing his eyes and waiting to feel the bite of the blade through his neck. He waited for the sudden crack of the sword tearing him from the world he had once wanted to protect and guard. He exhaled and squared his shoulders, fear lancing through him as his heart rate skyrocketed. 

Just as he heard the swing of the sword through the air, there came a loud _CLANG!_ Followed by a thudding sound and a blast of air in front of Tarric’s nose. Surprised, he pulled back to see the blade of the axe embedded in the wood of the block mere inches from his face, not far away he spotted an iron dagger and the splinters of the axe handle. 

 _What?_  

There came a loud scream as smoke burst from behind him, clouding Tarric’s vision and causing him to look around in confusion. He heard his former commander call for more guards, but he couldn’t see anything now, Tarric’s heart raced as he felt hands on his back and mouth, holding him in an arched position.

“If you say anything I’ll finish what they’ve started, just do what I tell you,” came a voice next to his ear. 

 _Aria?_ Tarric’s eyes widened as he caught sight of a familiar pair of blue eyes and a strand of red hair beneath a hood. She winked at him and shoved something into his mouth while wrapping a rope around Tarric’s waist.

“Don’t look at me like that! I couldn’t leave my faithful doggy behind now could I?” she brought out her own dagger and sliced a different rope, launching the both of them upwards and out of the smoke to freedom in a matter of seconds. 

It was then and there that Tarric knew that he was in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, long wait. But this chapter was a tough one... bouncing back and forth between Tarric and Aria, working out more character-stuff, plus getting ready for school and working a little. It's all been hectic but hey! Here you are! 8D
> 
> Enjoy this wonderful monster of a chapter!


	11. Often Occurs the Path to Misfortune

Cold, damp air seeped into Aria and Tarric’s clothing, making the both of them very thankful that there was no wind to increase their miserable mood. Their bodies ached from riding all day, the both of them stiff and tired and cranky with fatigue. They had fled Solitude a day and a half ago, riding towards Dragon Bridge where Aria knew they could flee into the Reach, where no Solitude guards could follow. They would be the prey of the Forsworn and Reach guards in Haafingar’s opinions, not their problem until the two criminals decided to show themselves again.

Though at the moment they still had to _get_ to the Reach before they could even begin to worry about the Forsworn or the Reach guards. Aria led the way as Tarric followed behind on his horse, keeping pace with her while the countryside passed by in a gray, green and brown haze. Ragnar rested inside his cloak, hiding from the cold. It had been gray and overcast ever since they left Skyrim’s capital city, leading to a miserable and quite dreary atmosphere for traveling. It even began to drizzle a little as they neared the town of Dragon Bridge, adding to their exhaustion and making their muscles and saddles creak and complain.

As they passed by the town surrounded by pines and high, thick rock formations, a thought passed through Aria’s head quite whimsically. The last time they had been here they had also been escaping Solitude, for much smaller crimes then, and had been able to pass through the town since news of their crimes, more like Aria’s crimes, had not reached the town yet. Now, however, things were different. News of Tarric’s arrest had been given two days to circulate and travel to other towns, and people would know soon about the escape they had pulled, so they couldn’t stop in the town for food or rest. Aria knew a small path near the town that led down to the river ravine below that they could bring the horses down and hide in. No intelligent guard would go searching down there, it was all sharp rocks and steep cliff walls, it would be the last place anyone would look for them.

Aria grumbled when her horse tripped over a rock, stumbling a little and nickering angrily. Aria sighed and shook her head as she looked about for the entrance to the path that she knew of, keeping her tired eyes open for any sight of it. 

“Aria…?” she barely heard the voice behind her and had to pause in order to discern whether or not Tarric had actually spoken or not, it would have been the first time since their escape that he had spoken. When he repeated her name a little louder, she turned in the saddle to look at him.

“What?” 

He was quiet for a moment, not meeting her gaze, “Thank you… for saving me,” she could swear that she saw a flush on his cheeks.

A grin seeped across her face, though she knew he couldn’t see, “Not a problem, I couldn’t just leave my riddle-solver behind now could I? I’d be lost without you, doggy,” she turned back around and kept going.

They soon found the start of the pathway and dismounted, their boots scraping against the rock and dirt underfoot while they led the horses down the steep path. Aria kept her eyes trained ahead, the ravine stretching out before them, high walls of rocky stone and scraggly plants used to growing in such harsh conditions. Below them wound a swift, flowing river, rapids ahead of them caused the water to hiss and flow white in most places. The air smelled of fresh rain, wet stone and earth, a quite pleasant spot, despite being so steep with not a stretch of green, soft grass in sight.

It took the small group over two hours to reach the bottom, having to move slowly and cautiously to avoid a horse turning a loose stone and breaking a leg. They took a lunch break at the base of the cliffs, overhead and in the distance they could see the tall bridge outside of Dragon Bridge. The group had taken the path down a few miles from the town, giving them plenty of space to cross out from underneath any Haafingar guards and away to the Reach. Aria knew it would be difficult to get the horses up the other side of the ravine near a large waterfall that Aria knew of, but with the right coaxing they could do it.

She sat down and rubbed at her sore calves while Tarric brought out a satchel of food from one of the saddlebags. He rested beside her and handed Aria a piece of bread and jerky, taking a drink from a water skin. She took it gratefully and bit down on the dry bread, chewing hungrily and looking around while they ate.

“Such a charming place that you’ve chosen,” Tarric sighed, working his jaw with the piece of jerky in his hand.

Aria grinned, “Ah yes, I love this kind of venue. Craggy rocks, rapids and cold, miserable weather; It’s ideal for vacationing!” she replied with a wry laugh.

Tarric shook his head, scoffing and looking about, “So why did you come rescue me?”

The thief threw a glance over to him, “Really? I thought I had told you, I’d be lost without my riddle-solver,” she leaned backwards, having finished her food she tucked her knee up to her chest and turned her gaze to the sky while her hood fell back only a little to show a few strands of her red hair. “Besides, they were going to kill you,” she murmured off-handedly, almost like she was saying it to just herself and like Tarric wasn’t there. 

He smiled, “True, you’d be sitting in the next key chamber and trying to figure it out for weeks. Though… were there other reasons?”

A silence stretched between them, though Tarric was sure she had heard him. He was afraid that she was going to ignore the question; she did that whenever she didn’t want to answer a particularly prying inquiry.

“I didn’t want you to die…” she said almost inaudibly, her tone quiet and soft.

Tarric felt something warm in his chest, but he pushed it down for now. He waited for Aria to continue, but she didn’t and remained quiet. The two of them stayed that way for a good, long while; the only sound was the hiss of the rapids and the occasional snort from the horses while they shifted on the pebbly, rocky riverbed.

They continued onwards after that, soon finding a tiny cave a few hours before sunset and settling in before dark. Tarric was silent, which was rare, and Aria was thoughtful and pensive. They ate dinner in silence while Tarric stroked Ragnar’s ears, the small rabbit cuddling against his abdomen to keep warm from the damp air. Sleep came early for the travelers, exhaustion finally winning the battle when they unrolled their bedrolls and doused the fire for the night.

 

* * *

 

Dawn was breaking when Aria heard the rustling of stones, a faint clacking sound that was certainly a long way away, but just close enough for her to hear. Her ears perked while she roused herself and fixed her mask and cloak around her. The thief slowly got up and crouched by Tarric, she reached over and pressed her glove to Tarric’s mouth and he jolted awake with a muffled growl. She met his gaze and put a finger to her mouth and nose, informing him to be quiet; the man frowned and glanced outside while Ragnar stirred and twitched his soft ears curiously while Tarric rubbed his head reassuringly between the ears.

Aria crouched near the entrance to the cave, her eyes scanning the misty surroundings outside. At first she didn’t see anything, only hearing the gurgle of the water and the soft howl of the wind through the rocks. She started to think that she had imagined any suspicious sounds due to exhaustion and an overly cautious mind, but a moment later she heard them again; the sharp clatter of stones falling and crunching under boot and the soft murmur of men’s voices in the fog. Her hearing sharpened while she listened, body tense like a cat waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse, her ears picked up the clatter of armor and leather and her heart nearly stopped.

 _Soldiers, and a lot of them,_ she cursed inwardly and drew a knife from her belt. _Great Nocturnal, if I get out of this I’ll never corner myself in a damn ravine again!_ She nodded to Tarric just as the group of ten soldiers came into view. 

“Someone spotted people heading down here, word from Solitude says they’re fugitives, escaped murderers,” said the lead man, searching about with his hand on the sword at his hip, “Search the caves and bring them to me when you find them,”

“Yes sir!” said three of them, while the rest looked at one another before going off to scout out the caves.

“What stupid oafs would hide down here?” one muttered to his companion as they came closer to Aria and Tarric’s cave.

The other shrugged, “Gods know, desperate men I guess,”

Aria’s mind worked furiously, they couldn’t get out of here on the horses without risking the river and possibly laming one of the horses on a loose stone. They could escape up the other side of the ravine, but again the horses had to go slowly to avoid injury, they couldn’t leave the horses because they had their supplies and food all in the saddlebags. In the Reach they would starve or die from a Forsworn attack if they didn’t have food or a quick get-away for the roads on the other side of the mountains they needed to cross.

The men were almost on top of them and Aria was running out of time, her mind went blank and fear clouded over her. She couldn’t think, her planning and cunning suddenly running dry at the worst of all moment she could possibly think of.

Tarric noticed her tense for another reason, realizing that the other had frozen, _her idea well has gone dry,_ he thought worriedly, before he relaxed a little and put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. He drew his sword silently and hid Ragnar in the saddlebags nearby, nodding for Aria to follow him he made to move towards the soldiers.

His idea dawned on Aria and she sighed inwardly, _though I don’t like it, a cornered rat has to fight when it has no other choice._ She drew her second dagger and prepared to clash blades with the soldiers, her mind steeling itself from any fear she had felt before.

The two men drew close to the entrance of the cave, about to go in when Tarric rushed the first one, giving space for Aria to slip around him and surprise the second with a dagger to the throat. Tarric quickly used his elbow to punch the man before him, he then pushed him away, unconscious, and onto the ground with a clatter. The rest of the soldiers were aware of them now, eight of them rushing over to where their comrades had fallen. Aria growled and faced four, while Tarric too faced the other four, the both of them holding their weapons at the ready while they were surrounded.

“So, there _were_ two murderers hiding under here,” said the leader, smirking lightly. 

Tarric huffed, “We’re not murder—” 

“I don’t care if you weren’t before, you are now,” the leader interrupted. 

Aria said nothing, her lithe body bent slightly, ready for the first attack. She preferred fighting from the shadows, not out in the open like this. While she looked at the men before her, she realized that many of them were huge compared to her smaller body. If either of them pinned her down to the ground, her light body and quick movements that were such an advantage to her, would become nothing but a curse.

“Brought a girlie murderer with you now huh?” the captain grinned, “this should be fun, we’ll drag you both off and maybe share amongst the rest back at the barracks,” 

Hissing, Aria glared at him, her blue eyes hard, “Touch me and I’ll show you what your vocal chords look like, in detailed, painful review!” Tarric said nothing, smiling just a little at her sharp comments; he was so used to being on the receiving end of them he was finding it entertaining listening to other’s getting her colourful threats.

The captain’s brow furrowed and he signaled to his men, “Take them, but leave that one alive,” he nodded to Aria.

The thief in question leapt into the air, kicking off the head of the closest man and jumping over and driving a dagger into the skull of another man with frightening force. She yanked the blade out with a sickening cracking sound and kicked that man down, gazing at the other three before her, “Next?”

Tarric wasn’t so lucky, he had been saddled with two big brutish men, the captain and a lean man who seemed to be trying to sneak around Tarric to get him in the back. Tarric managed to take down one brutish man, knocking him hard in the temple with the hilt of his sword and sending him to the ground. He clashed swords with the captain, keeping the mountains to his back and the other two men at his front.

“So, murderer, “ the captain swung at Tarric’s chest, his blade missing by mere inches when he leapt back and sent his own blow against the captain, somehow catching the sneaky soldier in the upper knee and sending him to the rocks with a howl. “Why travel with a girl? You seem rather taken with her,” 

“Shut your mouth, you lousy piece of skeever shit,” Tarric hissed again, parrying another blow and dodging one from the brutish man at his right side. He couldn’t see a thing of Aria, only a blur here and there. From the small glances he got he could see that two men had cornered her against the ravine wall and that two lay dead on the rocks. Tarric quickly turned his attention back to the two men, just in time to avoid a slice to the neck and counter with a sure-footed kick to the large man’s abdomen and groin area.

The brutish man howled in surprise, the leather armor across his stomach was no protection against the blunt force of Tarric’s boot. It was only enough to distract the brutish man before Tarric’s sword moved through the air and he hit the man in the head with a near-crushing blow and knocked him unconscious. With only the captain to deal with, Tarric’s attacks turned careful and more offensive, looking for gaps in the man’s defenses in order to push him down. The captain swung at Tarric’s belly, scraping the bare tip against the leather armor and making Tarric gasp. Realizing that he wasn’t injured, the former guard used quick, careful footwork to step around the blade and he managed to sidle to the side.

That was when he spotted the river; with a quick glance Tarric got an idea and slowly retreated back to the river, giving the captain the idea that he was winning. With the man’s confidence overflowing, Tarric pretending to be weakening beneath his attacks, Tarric watched and waited, blocking each attack but waiting for that final one…

“So long, murderer, enjoy your bed in the abyss!” the captain raised the sword above his head and Tarric saw his chance. The man snaked forward and beneath the captain’s raised arms, he switched his footing and landed himself behind him. The captain brought his sword down and, surprised that Tarric was suddenly gone, lost his balance and Tarric nudged him into the swift flowing river. The man vanished beneath the foam and the rocks with a surprised scream, and Tarric spat after him.

That was when a second scream issued from behind him and he whipped around to find Aria crumpled on the ground with one remaining soldier standing over her and pulling her up by the neck of her cloak and choking her. Tarric gripped his sword and raced over, barreling into the man and forcing him to drop her and go sprawling across the ground before Tarric slammed his boot into the man’s head and he fell away unconscious.

Tarric whirled around then; Aria still had not risen from the ground. Instead she was crumpled in on herself, shaking uncontrollably while clutching at her side. Tarric ran over and knelt at her side, putting a hand tentatively on her shoulders.

“Aria, let me see,” he slowly helped her to turn over, but a loud cry came from her and she tried to struggle away from him. From what Tarric glimpsed there was a deep stab wound in her left side, right between the plates of her leather armor, dark blood had already begun to soak her side. He hardened his gaze while she struggled against him.

“Stop moving or you’ll make it bleed more!” he snapped, startling her and making Aria freeze. “Take this off and we’ll wrap it,” he gently made to start taking her armor off but Aria regained herself and pushed his hand away.

“I can do this myself. He only grazed me, it’s not bad,” she shakily pulled up to her feet, hand against her side while she hissed with pain. When Tarric made to protest she shot him a withering glare and covered the wound with her cloak so he couldn’t see. “Lets get the horses and the rabbit… we need to be out of here before these bastards come to,” she kicked one of them in the shoulder, probably the one that had wounded her. Tarric watched as she made her way back to the cave and noticed she was limping, a dark spot on her breeches as well.

He was about to make note of it when she paused, cursing lightly. “Aria you should look at those, you’re not walking right…”

“Oh would you please stop acting like a mother? Shut your trap and lets go,” before he could get another word in she snarled, “ _Now, Tarric,”_ signaling that the conversation was over and she would not listen to anything he was going to say.

Except Tarric didn’t stop worrying about her, even after they coaxed the horses up the steep side of the waterfall on the opposite end of the ravine. Even after they began their trek into the mountains and rocky crags of the Reach, the fog closed around the trail behind and ahead of them was only cold and damp marsh and mountain. If there were any other place in Skyrim that Tarric could have chosen to be, it definitely would _not_ have been here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so, school is definitely back and it took me a while to piece this chapter together, with all the work I'm doing right now. So updates will be slow, but sure. 
> 
> So far, Aria's been the smart one... not now. I think there may be a few problems on the horizon for our two travellers, and I'm thinking it's not all to do with soldiers and people...


	12. Red Linen Cloth

The weather had not turned for the better; it had grown even colder and damper in the past week. All around were tall, craggy rocks, draped in soft moss and creeping plants. Here and there were clumps and orchards of juniper trees that swayed in a faint breeze that blew some of the light, spitting rain along in the direction of where Tarric and Aria had hidden themselves. It was early evening, the light was dim and the shadows hazy, the only light came from the fire they had going.

It wasn’t much of a shelter, but it was enough to keep them dry and somewhat warm with the small fire Tarric kept going. The shelter itself was an old Dwemer archway, built into the side of the cliff between two taller mountains and surrounded by thick trees. Their horses were tied up in a small alcove of fallen rocks next to the shelter, sleeping or nibbling on the coarse grass that grew between the rocks. Tarric was sitting beside the fire with Ragnar in his lap asleep, poking and prodding at it with less than half of his normal enthusiasm. Beside him Aria was rolled up in her sleeping roll with her back towards him and her head hidden by the blankets.

Tarric glanced up at her unmoving body, Aria’s breath coming in shallow breaths, seeming to sleep. Tarric sighed quietly, his brow furrowed and his eyes concerned while he kept his ears sharp for any change in breath. He had been worried about her for days, keeping one step behind her and keeping a harsh eye on her actions. Aria’s health had slowly declined over the days, the wounds in her side and in her thigh only got worse, as did her mood. Aria snapped at Tarric even for the smallest things; once accidentally spilling some of the cook pot’s contents as he carried it from the nearby river, again when he was making too much noise pulling out his sleeping roll, another for taking too long brushing down the horses.

Her mood continued to darken with the weather, until now she barely spoke to Tarric, and whenever he caught sight of her eyes he saw they were sunken and tired. She wasn’t sleeping, she barely ate, and now she said maybe one word per hour or less. He caught her fiddling with the bandages she carelessly wrapped around her middle and her leg, she refused his help with a sharp, indignant glare every time he offered his help.

It wasn’t like Tarric was nosey at all but he was concerned; as Aria’s disposition became even more rigid, he could observe her body growing weaker. She could barely ride in the saddle anymore without slumping forward against her horse’s neck, and dismounting was even more difficult with her injured leg. Whenever they had to walk the horses through a craggy, sharp pathway instead of riding, Aria stumbled and Tarric could hear her breathing become labored within moments of leaving the saddle. She fell behind, often falling asleep or slightly losing consciousness while riding, leaving Tarric to slow down and wake her up to keep her from tumbling over a cliff or down a canyon. 

Even now he could tell that she wasn’t asleep, her breath was harsh and her body seemed to tremble even though the small alcove was warm with the heat of the fire. She acted like a wounded animal, endlessly licking her wounds and refusing to acknowledge the fact that the wound is too large to heal alone. 

 _She’s going to die if this keeps up, the weather is too damp and it’ll just cause her to become sick,_ he jabbed at the fire with his stick, a small cloud of embers sparking up like fleeing insects from a doomed hive. Tarric watched them float into the air in a maddened frenzy, before instantly winking out after the heat vanished near the ceiling of the shelter.

He heard a soft, almost urgent whinny from one of the horses, before both of them started to paw at the ground. Ragnar looked up, his ears perked, a moment later he nudged the man’s hand and hopped down from his lap. Tarric looked up from the fire, his eyes adjusting to the dim light while he saw the horses pulling at their leads, Ragnar shifting uncomfortably near him. He frowned at them for a moment, before he realized that he could only hear them and the crackle of the fire in front of him.

Aria had stopped breathing.

Tarric leapt up and ran over to her, kneeling at her side and gently placing a hand on her shoulder, “Aria?” he leaned over and saw her breath was incredibly faint. He carefully turned her onto her back, her brow was beaded with sweat and her face, from what he could see with her mask on, was pale and sickly. The strands of her red hair were sticking to her forehead, her eyes rolled beneath her eyelids feverishly and when he put a hand to her forehead he winced at the high temperature.

“Aria, can you hear me?” he spoke carefully, trying to rouse her from her unconsciousness. Her only response was a short, small groan and her eyes fluttering, Tarric growled lightly, and shook his head, “Fine, I’m going to have to remove your armor, don’t kill me for it please,” he pulled away the blankets and let his hand hover over the buckles that clipped her armor together. If she were perfectly conscious she would have gutted him like a fish, but she wasn’t and she was nursing a boiling fever. Throwing his wariness aside he un-clipped her armor and cloak, keeping a stern face as he took off her boots, her arm wraps, her shoulder girdles and finally the leather armor at her torso. Knowing that she would kill him in his sleep if he took off her mask, he left it. Ragnar hopped around anxiously, his ears twitching and his back legs hitting the ground, warning Tarric even though he already knew Aria’s condition.

Beneath her armor, Aria’s body was lean and still muscular; she wore a pale tunic and a simple pair of cotton leggings. The linens at her side were stained red, a dark blackish-red and when Tarric looked closer he saw that the cut on her side was deep and the skin around it swollen and stinking with infection. Gritting his teeth he looked over her and spotted the shallower wound on her leg, it wasn’t as bad but it was nearing the state of the wound in her side. Aria shifted and whined in her sleep, her hands weakly pushing at Tarric, her eyes shut tight and her body shaking violently.

Tarric’s eyes softened and he shook his head, “You stubborn thief…” he sighed and got up, running to their bags and pulling out a small one from his own. He also retrieved a roll of clean linen bandages, a needle and some thread, a water skin, a wine skin and a small piece of wood that he rinsed with some of the water. He returned to Aria’s side and knelt opposite her, next to where the wound dominated her waist. 

“Again, please don’t kill me,” he dampened part of the linen in water and slowly began to clean the wound, dabbing lightly at it to remove dried and new blood, along with the puss from the infection. The moment the cool cloth touched her side, Aria screamed, her eyes flying open but not focusing at all. She thrashed on her bedroll and her arms flailed as if defending herself from some phantasmal assailant. Tarric winced but used his other hand to hold her down while he cleaned, all the while apologizing to her.

He worked furiously for what seemed like hours, until he finally finished cleaning the infection and calming the angry wounds; Aria’s struggling weakening almost as soon as it had started. He looked up to see if he had woken her, but what he saw surprised him. Her eyes and cheeks were stained with tears, something he had never thought he would see from her. He clenched his jaw and  brought out the needle and thread, and started to carefully sew up the open wounds. Aria’s body stiffened again and her scream was even louder than before, so loud that Tarric had to muffle her mouth by stuffing a cloth in it, or it would attract every Forsworn in the Reach. Each pass he made through the skin made him shudder, the soft skin was hot with infection and he nearly retched a few times. Instead he ground his teeth a little more and went on, knowing that if he didn’t she would die of sickness if the wounds worsened. He soon finished, cleaned the cloth again, and carefully placed it over the wound in her side and another piece on the one in her leg. He opened his smaller bag and brought out a small vial of red liquid and a few small herbs, a strand of wheat and a few crushed and dried blue mountain flowers. He combined the two together into a semi-dry poultice, using two stones he had used for crushing spices for dinner earlier. He carefully scraped off the mixture and rubbed it into the wounds on his companion’s side and leg, using his other hand to hold her down while she squirmed, trying to escape the stinging pain from the healing poultice. Once he was finished, Tarric used a few drops of the red liquid on strips of clean linen before wrapping her leg and middle with them to keep out any further infection while the herbs took effect.

It had been a few hours of work; the rain had progressed to a gentle downpour by now. Tarric still saw no sign of dawn between the tall, misty mountain peaks, and turned back to Aria. Her body had relaxed a little to a small tremor, and when he checked her forehead the fever was, though still terrible, was not as bad as before. He sighed with relief, taking a short swig from the wine skin before shifting up to Aria’s head. Once he had made her comfortable, sleeping on her back with one of the blankets draped over her body, he looked over her, realizing that she wouldn’t be able to drink without removing the mask. He took a deep breath and slowly, gently, lifted the mask from her face and placed it down next to her, he then turned back to look at her and his breath stopped.

Up until then, Tarric had only thought about what Aria looked like underneath her mask. He had been curious to take a peek while she slept in the months they had known each other, but knew it would end with a knife either in his chest or in his face; most likely his face. Now that he was looking at her, with no armor, no mask and no hood, and no sharp remarks either. Just looking at her, sleeping peacefully now that the pain had subsided, Tarric couldn’t look away.

Aria wasn’t strikingly beautiful. In fact, if he had to describe her he would have said she looked rather ordinary. Yet… there was something in her features, something in her expression perhaps, that added to her appearance. That made her a little, less ordinary. Her face was rounded at the top and pointed slightly at the chin as it flowed into her neck. Her eyebrows were dark and arched just a little, and her eyelashes were medium in length that fluttered in her sleep. Her lips were soft and pink, if not a little dried and cracked from travel, parted in a gentle bow-shape. Her red hair, though damp from fever, flowed around her face like a crown of blood and fire, a small braid tucked into the feathery strands of red and hung down to her throat.

Yet her most striking feature was the tattoo across her left eye, a red streak that arched one way above her eyebrow and twisted into a curl below her lower lid to her cheek. Tarric had glimpsed the tattoo now and again, but had, at first, thought it to simply be another piece of her red hair for it was done in a blood-red ink. When he looked closer he could see the slightly raised edge of skin that indicated a scar beneath the red ink, one that followed it almost perfectly and that Tarric figured she had covered with the tattoo.

Altogether she was ordinary, yet Tarric still couldn’t tear his eyes from her face. This was the woman he had gotten to know, traveling for months with her and only knowing her voice and eyes, her body movements. Now that he finally got to see her face, a smile crossed his own while he brushed the red braid in her hair back to rest by her ear. He felt like he was sitting there for hours, just staring at her face as if it were the only thing he could look at again, as if memorizing her features and engraving them in his mind.

Finally tearing his eyes away, he fixed her blanked and moved to lean against the wall beside her. He pulled up his own blanket, resting his head on the stone while he started to allow sleep to take over him. He looked at Aria one last time, she was sleeping peacefully now, and her breathing even and Ragnar curled up in the crook of her neck comfortingly. Tarric smiled again, sighing tiredly and falling asleep, his head lolling to the side as he drifted into the dark.

 

* * *

 

 A day passed and Aria’s wounds began to heal well, the infection slowly fading as her fever decreased. Tarric maintained a quiet vigil over his companion the whole time, changing her bandages hourly, gently helping her to sip water.

Tarric sighed as he relaxed a little after switching out her bandages near lunchtime, once finished he got up to stir a pot he had resting over the fire. He stoked the fire a little bit before adding a few crushed spices to the stew he had in the pot, tasting it before leaning back and taking a swig from the wine skin. 

He heard a small thump nearby and looked over to see Ragnar next to Aria, his ears twitching worriedly and shifting about. Tarric frowned and rose, moving over to see that Aria was shifting uncomfortably, her hands moving to the bandages and a small whine coming from her mouth. It was a situation and emotion, the look of helplessness that he had never thought he would see Aria display. She looked and sounded like a little girl, a frightened child that couldn’t understand why she was in pain. Tarric’s hands reached out to stop hers, making sure she didn’t tear the bandages, or the stitching in her wounds. Once restrained she whined again, tossing her head about in pain while Tarric kept her hands still while the pain passed.

She soon relaxed, her body shivering and shaking while sweat beaded her brow. Tarric gently wiped her brow and rinsed the cloth, folding it and placing it on her forehead to keep her temperature down. Tarric let his hands loosen, letting her wrists fall to her side once more as her body went lax. He smiled while he sat back on his heels, Ragnar also moving back towards Aria, nuzzling against her shoulder again as he curled up with her. Tarric brushed back her hair again, his expression calm and warm while he neatened her hair and fixed the blanket around her.

Somehow, he wouldn’t ever be able to explain himself later, not even to himself, he leaned a little closer to her. Without thinking, he carefully laid a gentle kiss on her cheek, smiling when her eyes fluttered ever so slightly at the contact.

Pulling his senses back, he flushed a little and got up, returning to his stew-stirring and trying not to brood on what he did. Though he felt a slight twinge of satisfaction in his gut, Tarric stoked the fire and stirred lunch with more enthusiasm as he had before.

                                  

* * *

 

Aria had woken about an hour earlier, her mind muddled and fuzzy with fever, she felt as if she had been chewing on parchment for hours. Her mouth was dry and her skin felt a clammy with cold and heat both. A gentle breeze had ruffled her now messy hair, making her eyelids twitch and lift just a little to let in a sliver of light. She winced but managed to get a look at her surroundings through her barely open eyes. The shelter around her was made of old, crumbling stone laced with vines and roots from other plants. She could hear the snorting of the horses nearby, and could feel a soft warmth near her neck that somehow did not seem threatening. She soon realized that she couldn’t really move any of her limbs, her chest felt heavy and she was barely aware of any feelings in a few places.

 _What happened? Did I fall?_ She looked around as best she could, but when she tried to move a sharp pain lanced through her side and she whined. The pain caused her arms to regain their movement and she tried to put her hand on whatever was hurting, trying to pull away her armor to get at it. Her body shifted instinctively as the burning, itching pain throbbed in her side and leg, her feet scraping across the ground feverishly.

Suddenly she felt firm hands on her wrists, firm but gentle, holding onto her and stopping Aria from getting at the painful burn beneath her armor. She whined again, her body trembling in the aftershocks of pain, but it slowly began to fade away just as quickly as it had started. Her muscles unlocked themselves and her arms loosened in the grip of whoever was holding them, she felt something warm press to her shoulder and she sighed slowly. The hands at her wrists gently let hers fall to her side, she felt a gentle touch to her forehead, brushing back her hair and dabbing something cool against her skin. She allowed her eyes to flutter open to slits, and then realized that her mask was gone. In a small state of panic she tensed, but her body would not allow it to last long, the careful touch to her hair made her relax again, and she soon recognized Tarric’s vague outline kneeling over her.

She was about to rouse herself, announce that she was awake and why she didn’t have her mask, when Tarric leaned closer to her and laid a feather-light kiss on her cheek.

If it had been any other circumstance, Aria would have snapped at him, or gutted him like a fish right then and there, or maybe both. However, she could only lie there in surprise, her eyes now closed and her mind reeling with exhaustion. She was shocked enough that her mind instantly began to temporarily shut down, dropping back into a feverish, dream-like haze.

Yet her mind, however tired as her body, still whirred with questions. One rising to the top of the pool over and over again… _Why?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done. I did it. Well, TARRIC did it.  
> (I think the proper termination is: TARRIC EVOLVED!) That or he's actually becoming less of a wuss and more of a heroic man~ 8D (Despite the fact that he's a huge sweetie)


	13. Delusional and Idealistic

Aria’s eyes felt gritty and sore when she opened them again, groaning quietly while she shifted and her sore muscles ached with the movement of her limbs. The woman growled when a dull pain shot through her side and caused her to lose her breath for a short second, making her pause and wait for the pain to subside as she caught her breath. Aria winced and cracked open her eyes for a second time, shifting her hands so they rested on the ground behind her so she could lean her weight on them as she pressed back against the wall she was apparently resting on.

She heard something move and saw Tarric getting up from the cook fire and coming over to her. He knelt beside the thief with a wet cloth in hand, “Hey, take it slowly and try not to move too much, how are you feeling?” he dabbed at her forehead with the cool cloth. Though Aria didn’t like the worried, pitiful look on Tarric’s face while he did, the cold press felt almost heavenly to her sore head.

The woman hissed and out of panic she froze, before realizing that her mask was still on, relieved she relaxed again and turned her eyes to Tarric’s, “Oh wonderful… I feel like I’ve had a lance shoved into my side and jiggled around a little just to annoy me, but other than that I feel great,” she leaned her head back and sighed, and Tarric just scoffed. Ragnar appeared at her other side and nuzzled against her, much to Aria’s surprise.

“Basically you had that done, but instead it was a knife shoved in and _you_ did the jiggling,” he wrung out the cloth and dipped it into a bowl of clean water, he shook it out again and dabbed it at her warm skin, making sure to avoid the mask. “You’re very stubborn… I had to wait until you were _dying_ before I could help you,”

Aria huffed and absentmindedly scratched between Ragnar’s ears, “Because I was fine, I could have handled myself,” she paused when he gave her a hard look, one that she did not expect him to make. “…Thank you though, for stitching me up back there, I owe you one I guess,”

Tarric smiled, looking pleased with the praise, “Well thank you, it wasn’t very easy since you fought me. Even when you’re unconscious you’re really strong,” he shrugged and leaned back on his knees letting Aria take the cloth and hold it to her own head.

She hummed, “How long was I out?”

“A few days or so, maybe three now? We can get moving tomorrow if you want,” he fixed his tunic just a little, Aria realized he wasn’t wearing his usual armors and leathers, instead he was only in his cotton pants, boots and a simple linen tunic.

“Alright, I think I should be good to ride tomorrow,”

Tarric snorted, “You’re going to ride, but we wont go very far, I’m not going to risk you moving around too much and ripping my nice handiwork,” 

The thief huffed once more, her head leaning to the side and away from him, “Fine then, doggy, you’re in charge for now,”

“Well thank you madam, I’m glad you approve of my lead,” he bowed mockingly and rose slowly, “Do you think you could keep some food down? I made some stew and I still have some good bread,” he went to stir the pot on the fire and Aria could smell something wonderful coming from it, making her mouth water and stomach growl.

“I think so, my stomach could take anything right now,” she didn’t turn her head back to him, instead she let her eyes gaze past the rim of the firelight and into the mist and the mountains beyond. The landscape was hazy and dim from the lack of sunlight, but Aria was able to tell it was late afternoon, early evening. Down from where they were camped stretched thick clumps of juniper trees, prickly bushes and scraggly grass. Dotting the landscape were large rock formations that rose and dipped with the land’s movement. In the distance, though probably nearer than farther, Aria could see the toothy outlines of the mountains, rising like gaping jaws up to the sky. Aria never really liked the mountains of the Reach, she always felt like the mountains were a cage, some kind of prison that, despite the many places to hide, always exposed her no matter where she was.

Aria breathed lightly, the ache in her side becoming a little sorer and she raised her hand to rest it on her side. She wasn’t in her armor anymore, but Tarric had left her mask on which pleased her a little more.

 _But he didn’t, did he?_ A thought intruded on her mind and her eyebrows bent downwards into a small frown. _He took it off; he’s seen your face!_ The survival instincts in her told her that she had to kill him, that she had to do away with any person who saw her face. It was dangerous; she couldn’t have anyone know what she looked like.

 _He’s seen you, he has to die, and no one can know what you look like. Anyone who gets that close always ends up dead anyways, you’re just going to beat whatever deity has cursed you with that to the punch._  

Aria shook her head slowly, _no. He’s saved my life, and though I hate it, I owe him now._ She ground her teeth and clenched her hands tightly, ignoring every survival instinct she had developed since she was a little girl, refusing that instinct that had kept her alive all her life. It felt like she was going against everything she knew, which she was.

 _But he didn’t have to kiss me! Why did he kiss me? What… what is he thinking? Is he… no!_ Aria growled and her hands gripped a little tighter, she refused to believe there was anything else other than camaraderie between the two of them, but somehow something in her chest twitched painfully when that thought crossed her mind.

 _I need him alive, I need him to help me get to that treasure,_ but she stopped, she hadn’t considered the treasure in months. They had been so focused on finding the pieces, or getting themselves out of trouble, that they had forgotten about the entire focus of their journey. _It’s the biggest payday ever, the biggest heist of my career. We want that treasure, but somehow we keep forgetting why were traveling together in the first place._ _Plus Coyote is waiting for me to find whatever he wanted, what was it again? He never said… he wanted a piece, only a piece. That shady bastard knows something, something that he didn’t tell me when he pointed me in the direction of this quest. There’s something I don’t know about this, and I hate not knowing anything!_

“Hey. Hey! Aria, wake up!” she was jarred by Tarric calling for her, she turned to face him and saw that he was standing by her, holding a wooden bowl with stew in it. He had a worried look on his face as he passed her the bowl.

“Don’t give me that look, I’m fine Tarric, just thinking,” she took the bowl and her stomach howled for the food. Taking the spoon in the bowl she started to eat slowly, enjoying the warmth that filled her stomach and calmed her sore wounds. Tarric shook his head in exasperation and went back to the fire, scooping out a bowl for himself and bringing over a slice of bread for the two of them, he sat beside Aria and smiled. Between them snuggled Ragnar, enjoying the warmth of the two bodies as he buried his little nose into Aria’s cloak, which laid next to her.

“Sometimes even great thieves need to be taken care of,”

Aria let the silence stretch between them, and had to, because she felt the bitter taste of tears in her throat while her eyes stung and she kept them back.

_This is impossible… I can’t have this happen. I can’t afford to be this weak._

* * *

The rocks crackled beneath the horses’ hooves, the five of them, including Ragnar, walked along a tall mountain path, their movements sending a few loose stones flying into the steep ravine below. They had been traveling since mid-morning, Aria allowing Tarric to order her around for now since she really didn’t have enough of the strength to argue with him, not until later anyways. Tarric wouldn’t let Aria ride for too long in the saddle, afraid that her wounds would rip open easily, he made her take frequent breaks which added to her irritation. Aria wanted to keep moving, she was sure that if they were too slow, that Forsworn or Reach guards would ambush them. She refused to allow them to use main roads, forcing Tarric to choose mountain paths and obscure, rocky roads to keep out of sight of the general public.

Tarric had ordered the fourth break in the day when they neared a rare, grassy outcrop and a small mountain stream. Tarric swung down from his saddle and moved to help Aria out of hers, the thief snarled at this and put up a hand to protest his help, but soon found she couldn’t get down without stretching her side in a very uncomfortable way. Tarric quietly chided her about being stubborn, again, and helping her down. They let the horses graze quietly on the grass while Tarric handed out slices of salted meat from his pack and a few snowberries that he had found on a bush nearby.

The sun was peeking through the clouds here and there, allowing warm patches of light to shine over the craggy rocks and brittle grass stalks. The openness of the valleys and ravines below them reminded Aria of the dips and ridges in a great cloak, only this cloak was made out of rock, mountain and wind. She gazed out absentmindedly at the landscape, her eyes following the sweep of the land and her ears listening to the soft howl of the wind through the rocks. Above them she heard the loud cry of a hawk as it sailed above them, its wings beating the air currents with little effort while it searched for food.

Aria adjusted her mask, her gloved hand pressing to where her cheek was as she glanced down at the hands in her lap. Her mind was a muddle and her chest tightened when she was reminded of the kiss Tarric had given her, the memory refused to leave her alone. Instead the memory replayed itself, over and over again in her mind as she went over it.

Perhaps she had just been too feverish, and imagined the whole thing? Maybe it didn’t happen at all and she was worrying and brooding about nothing. Yet it was his _actions_ that betrayed him. Aria looked to Tarric, he was kneeling by the stream, filling up the water skin and humming quietly to himself. Beside him Ragnar nibbled at the grass thoughtfully, his little brown ears twitching while he listened for any sign of danger. Tarric was smiling to himself, he was acting too happy when he thought no one was looking, and when he was around Aria he seemed to be behaving more carefully. He wasn’t his usual annoying self, he wasn’t asking a million-and-a-half questions, he treated her gently and carefully. It reminded Aria of the way someone would treat an injured animal, with _pity._

And she _hated_ pity.

It meant someone looked down on you, it meant they thought you lesser or weaker than them. The thought made her grind her teeth and set her jaw furiously, her eyes sparking just a little. _I will_ not _be made to be the damsel here, I can take care of myself! I don’t need someone else’s pity, I don’t need their care! I need those who can work and get the job done without adding too much emotional shit to make things more complicated._

That was Aria’s mood through the whole trip, every day she rose and traveled with her mood growing steadily darker. By the fourth day, her irritation was irked by almost the smallest of things, and Tarric was beginning to notice this.

 

* * *

  

It was early evening; the sun was setting and was actually visible for the first time in weeks. It’s orange-golden glow settling among the mountain peaks to the west like a ball of fire in a bowl. It’s light cast long shadows over the tall crags that surrounded the Lover Stone, a small monument built on the very edge of the cliff face. A lone tree stood beside the tall, carved stone that surrounded the small monument, prickly brambles and moor scrub bunched up against the stone and rattled in the slight breeze.

The two travelers rested in the shelter of the stone monument, out of the wind as Aria set up their bedrolls and Tarric gathered firewood for a small fire. Aria watched him move over the hillside, gathering up pieces of kindling and holding them in his arms while he kept moving about. Aria’s irritation had grown to a boiling point, to the point where she wanted to scream and rage at Tarric, hold him against the ground with a knife to his throat and demand answers from him. Instead she tucked her knees to her chest slowly, taking care to not move her stitching too much.

She watched Tarric finish gathering wood, her blue eyes hard and calculative while she did, but still confused and muddled if one looked hard enough. She shifted a little when he came back, coming up the rise and giving her a bright, happy smile which made some part of her smile back, but the other part of her scowled and bristled at it. 

Aria waited, letting Tarric get the fire started and set up his cooking materials while he began to cook supper, using some of the water from the water skins they had. Aria observed him slicing a leek, a clove of garlic and combining it all with tomatoes, he sprinkled a few spices into the mixture in the pot and stirred. Aria kept her eyes on him the entire time, her eyes barely moving and her body rigid.

“You know, it’s not going to be ready _any_ faster if you keep staring at it,” Tarric grinned, tapping the wooden spoon on the side of the pot while he set it to rest over the rim. Aria looked up and frowned at him, “You’re staring at me,” he pointed out, his grin never wavering.

The muscles in Aria’s brow knotted, “I’m not hungry. I’m thinking,”

Tarric’s head swayed as he shook it, “You are hungry, we haven’t eaten since lunch,”

She growled, “I’m fine,”

“Look Aria you need to eat, it should be ready soon—”

“I said I’m _fine_ Tarric, now let it alone,” she snapped, eyes sparking without the aid of the firelight. Tarric flinched at the words and drew back a little, beside him Ragnar’s ears perked and fell backwards on his head, the small rabbit hid behind Tarric and the man put a hand on it’s side to reassure it. “Good. About time that pathetic rabbit learned to fear me,” she muttered bitterly, earning a small sniff of puzzlement from Ragnar. 

It was Tarric’s turn to frown, “What was that for? He was worried about you the whole time you were sick, and you say _that_ to him?” he looked completely taken aback, the woman before him flicked her eyes to him and then away as she adjusted her gloves, brushing a strand of her red hair back from her face and behind her ear. “Apologize, Aria,” 

She slowly met his gaze, a defiant, furious glare coming to his face, “… _what?”_

If this had happened months ago, Tarric would have shrunk away and not said a thing. However, he gazed back at her, a bemused and astonished look on his face. “I said, apologize to Ragnar, _Aria,”_

Some part of her was proud that Tarric was standing up to her, but right now the only thing she was feeling was rage, pure and unfiltered rage slowly boiling over the limits of her consciousness. She slowly and carefully unfolded herself from her sitting position and crossed her arms, ignoring any kind of pain in her side and leg, her eyes never leaving Tarric the way a wolf’s gaze never left a threat. “I don’t apologize to rabbits, _dog,”_

“Apologize to him Aria!” Tarric’s voice raised a little bit more, making Ragnar retreat even further into the shadows. 

“I said no, so drop the damned subject you piece of horker meat!”

It was more of an argument between the two of them now and not about Ragnar, the both of them glaring furiously at one another across the fire, the food forgotten and the heat of the fire fueling their own anger.

“What has gotten into you? You’ve been snappy and angry for the past few days, there’s no need for all of this Aria!” he barked at her, haughtily stirring at the pot.

She scoffed, “That’s not even the half of it, dog, but unlike _you_ I don’t spill my poor little emotions and sad little sob stories to everyone who wants to know! It’s none of you’re damned business what makes me angry and it’s none of your business whether or not I tell you a thing!”

“Still, it’s no excuse for exploding for no reason! Especially at Ragnar or me when we’re the reason you’re still alive now! You’re ungrateful and harsh to those who’ve saved your life!” he snarled back, finally feeling his hackles begin to raise in anger.

Fury sparked in her eyes and she stood, pain forgotten and the sudden burst of anger-fueled adrenaline allowing her to do so. “Don’t you _dare_ look down on me boy! I will not be an object of fucking pity in your eyes, I owe you _nothing!_ You are nothing to me but a means to an end, so shut your fucking mouth before I slice it from your face and feed it to the hawks!”

Instead of backing away, Tarric rose as well, “ _Nothing?_ I’m _nothing?_ Then who solves all your riddles? Who’s the one who had to stitch up your side after you so stupidly allowed it to fester and make you ill? Who’s the one who sat by you all night and day making sure you were still alive? You stone-brained, ice-hearted idiot! Think for a moment and look beyond your own over-assumed _greatness_ for once in your life and learn how to properly appreciate when somebody cares about you!”

The clear words struck Aria through the chest like the peal of a bell and she stopped, a semblance of shock and surprise written over her visible features. If Tarric could see her mouth it would have been open, agape and surprised with his sudden outburst. Her hands fell to her sides slowly and her gaze fixed to his, fear, anger, alarm and exasperation showing one after another while her thoughts took in his words. It was like she was seeing him for the first time, he stood with a strong stance before her, his well-muscled shoulders were tense, his chestnut hair was almost fluffed out like an actual dog’s. His green eyes were challenging, daring her to speak up against what he had said.

“I…”

But he stopped her, “Look, I get it, you’re strong and you don’t want anyone to look down on you,” some part of him loosened a little, “but that doesn’t mean that everyone and everything is an enemy, believe it or not there are people that want to help you, people that _want_ you to depend on them when you have too. Depending on someone isn’t weak, it’s survival, and it’s how we as people survive together,”

Aria slowly crumpled in on herself, falling back to the ground and putting a hand to her face, her shoulders shaking and trembling just a little while she hid her face from him. For a split moment, Tarric thought she was laughing, and where that wouldn’t surprise him, when he looked again he realized that she was _crying._

“You… you sad, delusional fool…” the thief shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips, “That kind of thinking is going to get you and me killed,” she shook, rubbing at her eyes to force the tears back from whence they came, and clenched her fists in her lap. “You can’t think that way, life is hard, we can’t afford to survive together… all we can do is survive,”

She heard Tarric sigh and slowly move over to kneel beside her, he made no move to touch her at all, but he was closer than ever to her, “Sometimes we need to trust others in order to survive, because you need to _live_ , not just survive,”

Aria let out a rasping chuckle, “I can’t believe I’m being lectured by you…”

A grin pulled at Tarric’s mouth, “and I can’t believe that I’m lecturing you, Nightingale,”

Somehow when he said her other name, Aria felt a stabbing pain go through her chest, and her heart leapt, despite the pain. Slowly she raised her head and looked at him, her brow furrowed and her eyes slightly red from holding back most of her tears. She stared at him incredulously, as if seeing him in a new light, “You… you always see the brighter side of everything, you’re a fool,”

“Maybe, and you’re a stubborn, idealistic thief,” his smile didn’t move from his face, encouraging Aria to smile a little back.

She sighed, allowing a silence to pass between them while she watched the fire and Tarric moved back to stir the soup on the fire and Ragnar slowly crept back to sit beside him. The fire crackled and spat, hissing as it burned through a hidden sap layer and it bubbled and hissed as the quiet stretched between them.

“I was awake,” she finally said, breaking the silence.

Tarric’s stirring slowed, “Awake when?”

Her eyes rose to his face, waiting for him to meet her gaze again, “You know when,”

Tarric stopped and his shoulders tensed once more, his face turning to hers and a flush seeping into his cheeks at her words. “W-wait… you were?”

She nodded quietly, “Yes, barely, but I was awake,”

The man looked utterly horrified his eyes widening and his mouth hanging open. Aria felt a smile tug at her mouth and she raised an eyebrow inquisitively to him as Tarric stammered, his cheeks reddening. “But-but you were unconscious! You shouldn’t have been! I-I mean—”

“Tarric, you’re acting like a love-sick teenager, calm down for a moment,” Aria reassured him, any of her earlier anger was gone for now, instead she found this utterly hilarious.

“B-but… I don’t… I didn’t…”

Aria stretched her arms out in front of her, the wound in her side was still sore now that the adrenaline had subsided from her system and she was more relaxed. She pulled her hood off and fingered her mask, “Now that I _definitely_ know you’ve seen my face I’m debating on whether or not I should let you live,” she intertwined her fingers together and leaned forward on her knees.

“What? No! No I didn’t—” he threw up his hands defensively.

“Look, Tarric it’s fine! Calm down, I’m not part of the Dark Brotherhood, I’m not going to kill you,” she laughed, “though I am good friends with them, I could get _them_ to do it instead,”

A look of horror crossed his face, “Aria! You’re not serious?”

She let her laugh grow from her chest until she was holding her sides, doubling over herself and wincing at the same time while she tried to breath. “Oh wow, you should see your _face!_ You look terrible!” she smirked.

Tarric gave her a dark glare of contempt, “You’re cruel you know… really cruel,”

“Only to you, doggy… only to you,” 

 she hummed quietly and brushed her hair back, “I don’t mind really… but I’ll have to think about all of this first,” at first he didn’t seem to understand what she meant, until realization dawned on his face and his lips tightened and he nodded.

“Alright, but… can I say something first?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he inhaled sharply, seeming to prepare for something. 

“I love you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... that was a long one...  
> Quite frankly I'm very proud of this one, the two of them have progressed so far! Except not beyond arguing... they're just stuck in that kind of rut xD.
> 
> I want their relationship to progress more, but yes they are supposed to be romantic, but it's not my main focus. 
> 
> See you in the next chapter!
> 
> Oh wow... I only just not realized that Aria's name corresponds with my username... (that was actually unintentional...) Wow. HAHAHA. Aria is NOT a representation of me, she's a completely original character. Wow, can't believe I didn't catch that until now...


	14. Under Pressure

The morning they woke, Aria felt sick to her stomach, her head was fuzzy and she couldn’t seem to focus very well on anything except trying to soothe her frustrated and put-off stomach. She ran her gloved hand through her hair and over her face and mask, rubbing the grit of sleep from her eyes while she strove to wake herself. Tarric was already awake, stirring a pot of what seemed to be a light soup, or perhaps it was the remains of dinner the previous night, she couldn’t seem to remember very well.

 

_“I love you,”_

 

The words echoed in her ears and mind, as if he had said them all over again. Aria wasn’t sure if she were angry, flattered, or just plain afraid of what Tarric had said to her the previous night. She had given him no indication that she returned any feelings whatsoever, except a stunned, wordless expression upon her face that probably led him to believe that his words had some effect upon her. Though he hadn’t exactly given her a chance to respond, for a moment or so after he had said those words, he had raised his hand and shook his head.

 

_“Don’t say anything just now, I only wanted to tell you and get it off my chest. But now you know and that’s what I wanted, in a way. Now lets enjoy our supper and be done with it.”_

 

To say the least, Aria was impressed with Tarric, he had grown in the short few months that she had known him. He had gone from the whining, do-goody guardsman, to a strong and independent man who seemed to be slowly, but surely, adapting to life on the run. Aria wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to fully convert him to a life of larceny and living in the shadows, which is one of the reasons why she didn’t think that such a thing as ‘love’ could ever truly be real amongst relationships such as these. Though to her it had been either steal and live to see another day, or get caught by the guards and thrown into a cold, dark cell for the rest of your days, or worse. She had a feeling that Tarric would never accept a life such as that, and therefore it was another con to the situation she now stood before.

Shaking her head, Aria sat down in front of the fire just as Tarric handed her a bowl of the soup. Brooding over such things was petty and adolescent, she would focus on the now, which was all she ever focused on. It was right now that mattered, that, and the massive hoard of treasure they were slowly and surely growing closer to with each key piece they acquired.

Which reminded her, Aria slipped out the book from her cloak and flipped through it while forcing her stomach to accept the tribute of the meager breakfast. It rolled and complained, but eventually she settled it with a harsh grunt that made Tarric raise a brow but not question any further. Aria had lifted the mask just a little so she could eat, and flipped through the book until she found the map that Brynjolf had drawn for them. According to it they were directly above the next key piece, which meant that there should be a cave nearby that accessed the chamber in which the key was housed. She ate quietly, the warm broth starting to warm her stomach instead of anger it, which was starting to make her feel better.

A sore ache went through her side when she lifted her arm too fast and she groaned, rubbing at her waist where the bandages were still held in place. Almost immediately Tarric looked up worriedly, his eyes concerned, “Is it okay? The wound I mean. Do I need to re-bandage it?”

It took Aria a few seconds to register what he had said, before she shook her head and sighed as her leg ached too. “No, they’re just sore. They’ll heal soon enough, you can check the bandages _after_ we get that key piece,”

“How many do we have so far?”

“Six I think… we’ll have to count them and see if they fit together when we find the next one,” she lifted the bowl to her mouth and tipped the rest of the soup down her throat, setting the bowl down near Tarric. “We should get going, we’ll need to do this quickly and move on to the next one.

Tarric scoffed, “Getting impatient?”

“Nah, I’m just thinking about that mountain of treasure that’s just sitting there all alone… waiting for someone to come along and count it after all these years,” she sighed like a moony-eyed little girl, tilting her head to the side dreamily.

“You sound _very_ odd when you talk like that…” Tarric muttered indignantly, cleaning up the food and dishes while he moved to douse the fire and roll up his bedroll. There was no harm in being prepared, though they had to leave the horses outside the cave, when they found it, he wasn’t going to leave his things lying about incase they had to make a quick getaway. Aria had to smile at this, she was starting to make an impression and start habits with Tarric after all.

 Once they had the camp cleared up and all signs, or most of them, of their stay had been more or less eliminated, Aria led them down a little ways to where the map indicated they should be. Searching the rocks and the craggy canyons for any sign of a cave or inlet. It took them hours, sometimes having to dismount and lead the horses through treacherous slides and rocky pathways that even a mountain goat would deem highly unstable. It took them some time but soon Tarric spotted a small dark patch amidst a patch of juniper and brambles, when they approached they spotted a falmer marking on the side of the tunnel that looked more like a snow-elf. Smiling to one another they hid the horses in the juniper and slowly headed inside, hoping that no troll had made this cave its home. That had happened already and Aria would have preferred, most highly, that it not happen again.

It was nearly pitch black inside the tunnel while they headed downwards, making them pause in the entrance to light two torches in order to be able to see. Even though Aria felt most at home in the dark cloak of shadow, she didn’t like being unable to see danger approaching.

“Used to this yet?” she looked at Tarric, keeping her voice hushed incase there indeed _was_ something other than themselves in this place.

The man smirked, the orange firelight picking out the shadows and hard edges of his jaw and his eyes while it flickered and danced, “Oh yeah, I like being in dark, musky places now, it’s like a second home!”

The master thief laughed huskily from behind her mask, “Good, you better since we still have three more keys to find after this one,”

Moving deeper and deeper into the dark, Aria soon began to feel the weight of the mountain pressing down upon them. The tunnel itself was just wide enough for her to stretch her arms out fully in all directions, but it was still a small space, and even rats could feel uncomfortable after a while in such cramped, dark places.

She was just beginning to wonder if the tunnel even _had_ an end, the floor sloped downward and curved sharply. She spotted the smallest trickle of light up ahead and nearly breathed a sigh of relief when they came to the edge of a large, cavernous room that curved at the ceiling high above their heads. She stretched and smiled, before the glimmer of relaxation vanished from her face completely.

Set before them was an empty floor, except the floor was made entirely out of pressure plates.

“By the nine… Nocturnal save me…” she muttered quietly under her mask.

Tarric frowned, clearly not understanding what she meant, “What’s wrong? Did you see a troll?” he made to move forward, raising a foot to press on the first plate.

“TARRIC!” Aria snatched him out of the way, but the toe of his boot hit the plate and all at once a great column of fire shot from it, throwing the two of them backwards in a hot blast that sent Ragnar scurrying for cover in Tarric’s cloak.

Both of them having landed on their backsides, Tarric stared incredulously from the plate, to his boot, to Aria, and then back to the room all in a matter of seconds, his mouth agape in surprise. The look of sheer shock on his face would have been funny, if he hadn’t nearly come so close to being incinerated.

Aria sighed just a little and got to her feet, brushing herself off and helping Tarric to his feet, “Pressure plates… we used to use these to test new footpads to see if they had the right stuff. Mind you we didn’t use _fire_ , merely knives and the like,”

“Oh like that’s _so_ much better,” he said non-chalantly.

“Actually they were, it’s easier to heal from a knife cut than it is a sudden burn. Normally you’d be dead if you were burned _that_ badly,” she waved at the plate he had stepped on.

Tarric looked out to the room, “Great… so how do we get across?”

Aria looked about, scanning the walls and assessing the situation, the entire room silent as a tomb while she thought. “Well… I don’t trust the walls, see those?” she raised her arm and pointed towards several holes that were evenly spaced at random intervals, and in groups of five, all around the ceiling. “Those are probably triggered by pressure plates in the walls disguised as rocks, they may shoot spears, darts… more fire,” she tilted her head at him and he smiled sheepishly. 

“So what then?”

She looked back to the room and picked up a handful of heavy stones lying at their feet from where a bit of the tunnel had broken off long ago, “So… we have to take the floor. You will follow me _only_ when I say, and _only_ then can you move all right? You have to try to keep your weight balanced, so that you don’t fall over and end up looking like you were used as dragon target practice, is that clear?”

“Sounds simple enough, how do we know which are safe?” he picked up a few stones as well, not as many as Aria, but enough. 

She scanned the plates, “They have symbols on them…” with one fluid movement she tossed one stone onto a plate and instantly it burst into flame. When she frowned and threw another onto a different plate, nothing happened. Smiling to herself as well as Tarric, she straightened herself and pointed to it, “See the symbol on it? It’s a raven. We follow the raven,” just to be sure, she spotted another raven plate nearby and tossed a stone on it, when no fire burst forth she knew that those were the safe plates. 

“Ready? Follow _exactly_ what I do and nothing more. Keep that rabbit close to you and don’t let him spook,” she instructed. Without giving Tarric a chance to respond she stepped out onto the floor, and the game began.

Slowly they made their way to the middle of the room, Tarric following Aria, albeit a little more awkwardly. He couldn’t mimic her graceful, steady steps, but he could make do with tip-toeing and keeping himself balanced as best he could. The time seemed to pass slowly, as Aria would stop for long periods of time to assess which was the best direction to go, seeing as the door was ahead of them and they didn’t want to end up in a corner they couldn’t get out of again. It was in one of these exact moments that Aria paused abruptly and held out her hand, making Tarric stop so suddenly he almost lost balance and fell. Wobbling about for a moment he regained the balance and sighed happily, waiting patiently (with a squirming and frustrated Ragnar in his tunic) for Aria to decide on the route. 

It seemed like forever, standing in the center of the perilous room, the plates barely big enough for two feet, let alone one. Tarric thought that they would never move from there again, and slowly petrify and become statues, permanent residents in a lost, forgotten cave that no one would ever discover until the end of time.

Just as his imagination was getting away from him, Aria stepped forward and he carefully followed, only to come to an abrupt halt again as she paused. Yet something seemed to be troubling her, for her shoulders tensed and she seemed to go rigid. 

“What is it?” he looked about curiously, seemingly lost for what to do.

She shook herself, “Something’s not right… all of the raven plates line up now… it’s a straight shot to the door,” 

He frowned, “So? Then why not go if it’s that easy?”

“It’s _never_ that easy Tarric… especially with the snow elves… when have you seen a falmer lay an ‘easy’ trap? Or anything easy for that matter? No, something’s wrong…” when Aria became fearful, Tarric knew something was definitely not going right, and right now he could feel his heart rate begin to accelerate.

Suddenly they heard the sudden slide of rusty metal and a loud slam of metal on stone, and a quiet ticking noise began to slowly grow louder and faster. Tarric jumped and Ragnar went still in his tunic, Aria’s breath stilled.

“Oh gods.... it’s a switch…”

“What? What is?” Tarric’s mind raced and he tried to calm himself.

“The whole damn floor… Tarric listen carefully, you can _not_ let both feet leave the floor. We need to step to the edge without both feet leaving the plates until the last moment, and we need to do it _fast,_ ” fear sounded in Aria’s voice and Tarric felt it grip about his own heart as the ticking steadily sped up.

Aria breathed quietly, “Ready? On three, we make for the door. Do what I said,” she glanced back at him, he nodded, “Alright, one… two—three!” and the both of them made a break for the door, not allowing both feet to leave the floor until at the last moment, when Aria’s feet touched the solid ground of the floor on the opposite side of the cavern she swung around and grabbed Tarric by the waist. She pulled him up just as the entire floor burst into searing hot flames and sent the two of them backwards into the wall, Tarric on top and Aria beneath.

They landed on the ground, together in a heap, singed and a little tense, but alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a short chapter, but I wanted to get it to you guys for Christmas! So merry Christmas with a little chapter of Tarric/Aria banter and adventure! Hope the new year is great to you all!
> 
> Now I'm off to drink a whole thing of egg nog and nobody can do anything about it. NOOOOG!!!


	15. Fifteen Mummies and a Door

The heat in the room finally died down as the flames retreated back into the walls and the floor, leaving both Tarric and Aria breathing heavily and splayed out on the floor from their mad dash to the exit. Tarric’s back was singed just a fraction, and Ragnar was huddled against his chest, eyes wide and whiskers twitching in shock. Tarric brought up a hand to soothe the rabbit, rubbing his ears gently as he tried to calm him and himself.

Aria was the first to get up, her red hair now slightly frizzy due to the sudden intense heat, and some of the fine strands floated around her face and stuck to her nose and mask. Brushing them away in irritation she slowly rose to her feet and looked back into he pressure-plate room, it was silent and dim as if nothing had happened, and somehow that irritated her more.

“Whoever designed this damn treasure hunt must have had a really _poor_ sense of humor,” she snarled while dusting off her back and un-ruffling her cloak. Tarric looked in her direction and smiled half-heartedly while he lifted himself, and a still slightly stunned Ragnar, upwards. He let the rabbit hang on his shoulder while he brushed his clothes off, also looking back into the previous room.

“Honestly I think they probably thought this would be the best way to torment you, _Nightingale_ ,” he said with a slightly mocking tone, earning a dark glower from the thief at his side.

She fixed her hood and hissed, “Whatever, lets keep going, I want to get this key and get out of here before anything else happens,”

“With you that’s an occupational hazard,” this earned him another dark look, but Aria said nothing while they continued on through the dark tunnel that now had the slight smell and tang of burnt hair and charred rock dust. 

The tunnel continued to slant ever downwards, except now at a more gradual pace, the smell of charring soon faded, only to be replaced with an intense draft of cold. The air practically tasted of stale air and dust that seemed to coat Aria’s tongue; the faint smell of mildew and rot was harder to distinguish but was still identifiable. Ahead, Aria could see the faint glow of torches, which immediately sent warnings throughout her body and made the hair on the back of her neck prickle and stand in attention. Despite the warm glow of the torches, the temperature of the tunnel had dropped significantly. Beside her Ragnar had hidden in Tarric’s tunic again, the former guard had his hand on the pommel of his sword and his shoulders and jaw were tight with worry.

Aria and Tarric exchanged looks then, before both of them drew their swords, instantly gaining a sense of danger when they stepped into a wider chamber. The tunnels appeared to have ended in the large, oval shaped room. Along the walls were large slabs of black stone that were evenly spaced one meter away from each other. Along the far wall they could see a carved mural with what looked to be the next riddle, which gave them both some form of relief. Yet that sense of relief was squashed when they realized how silent the room was, the sound of their boots on the stone floor sounded like thunder in the tomb-like room.

“I don’t like this…” Tarric murmured, keeping his voice lower than a whisper. The floor between them and the riddle-wall was completely bare, not a pressure plate, table or switch in sight. Aria nodded and slowly put a gloved finger to the mouth of the mask, keeping her body weight evenly distributed she crept along the floor at a slow and careful pace. Moving like a cat she kept her eyes trained on the stone slabs while Tarric remained where he was, sensing by now that Aria needed no assistance until she made it clear she required it. 

The thief moved silently across the room, avoiding the black slabs in the walls, towards the riddle wall, but she paused just before it. Instead of heading in its direction fully she veered to the right and stopped in front of the only part of the wall, aside from the riddle wall, that was not broken with the black slabs. Slowly her gloved hand traced the wall for a moment until her fingers picked up the faintest trace of a draft against the pads of her gloves. A smile grew beneath her mask as she followed the draft all around the wall in the rough shape of a doorway; she turned her head back to Tarric and motioned for him to join her _quietly._

Tarric slowly inched his way over to her, his steps a little clumsier than hers but they were far more practiced than they had been when they had first known each other. Aria felt a small swell of pride while he walked carefully towards her, keeping his weight distributed on his legs rather evenly, clearly he had been paying attention and learned a few things about keeping quiet on his feet.

That was when her pride vanished with the grating sound of stone on stone, the heavy thud of something large falling to the floor as it was moved aside. Both she and Tarric turned to see one of the slabs on the far side of the room had slid aside, toppling away to reveal a shallow alcove. Inside the alcove, covered in cobwebs, dust and all matter of grimy, rotting things, came what seemed to be a person. Yet this ‘person’ seemed more like a walking bag of bones held up by nothing more than its rotten, moldy skin. The creature stumbled from the alcove and shuffled to the floor, its body covered in parts by moth-eaten furs and leather, a heavy sword dragging behind it that looked too heavy for it to be even moving, let alone lifting. Yet the creature seemed to have no problem hefting it up to its shoulder, like the weapon were made out of simple, lightwood. The glowing, white-blue eyes blinked before fixating on Tarric, who had frozen in place like a startled stag.

 _Well… either this guy has the worst luck in the bloody world, or he can’t sneak worth a damn. Though I think it’s probably the first._ Aria growled and unsheathed her knife, but Tarric was three steps ahead of her and drew his in one single stroke and slashed the monster diagonally across the chest and lower torso, before lopping off its gargling head. No blood came from the mummified corpse, and the only sounds it made were a horrible gurgling, coughing sound while the lights in its eyes faded and it fell over. Tarric kicked aside the body and looked up at Aria, a victorious expression on his face. She smiled and shook her head, relief flooding over her now that the problem had been taken care of.

“Come on, let’s read that riddle and get out of here,” she motioned for Tarric to finish his trek across the room to her. 

Then the rest of the slabs flew open.

Tarric’s face fell as he was suddenly surrounded by almost fifteen of the mummified, dust-ridden corpses, all wielding different weapons and gurgling at him furiously. He raised his sword as the first one bore down on him, a large Nordic male with a heavy broadsword between his bony fingers. Tarric blocked the blow and cut the monster off at the knees with a kick to its gut, sending it stumbling backwards. Yet it was only replaced with another monster, one with a dislocated jaw and a heavy staff in its hands.

“Read the riddle! It might open the door!” he shouted at Aria, for none of the monsters had seemed to notice her shadow-clad figure. He was soon lost in a swarm of the rotten monsters while Aria stared in complete bewilderment. Shaking herself from her shock, and trying to ignore the sounds of clashing, clattering metal behind her. She squinted as she opened her little book to decipher the falmer language etched into the stone, behind her she heard the thud of a body but she could still hear Tarric’s growls and grunts as he fought, so she knew he hadn’t fallen.

It took her seconds to read the note and translate it, and she thanked any of the Nine that were watching that it was a short one this time. The sounds of the fight continued behind her as she read aloud:

 

_“If you have me, you want to share me._

_If you share me, you will no longer have me.”_

Riddles! Always damned riddles! She couldn’t solve riddles like this, she could barely solve them when it was quiet and she had days, even weeks, to think. Tarric was pre-disposed and she couldn’t think about riddles under this kind of stress. She shouted the riddle back to Tarric and he snarled angrily, slicing down another of the monsters but taken over by yet another.

“Aria! You’re going to have to figure this one out! It’s simple and short! You can do it!”

“Don’t tell me that you stupid skeever brain! I know that but hurry it up!”

“I’D _LOVE_ TO BUT I CAN’T!”

“TRY!”

“ARIA!!”

She groaned, “Alright! Alright!” she stared hard at the wall, her eyes working furiously over the words, her heartbeat racing through her chest as her blood roared in her ears.

 _Something that I have but want to share, but what do I have that I_ ever _want to share? Money? No. Trinkets? No, not that either._ Aria hopped up and down on the spot, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

_Clothing? No, I’d still have some if I shared it._

_Maybe it’s more cryptic, like life? No, you still have life if you share it with someone._

_Thought? But you still have thought!_ “Nocturnal help me I’m going to break through this wall and take the damn key by force if I can’t get this soon!” she snarled and punched the wall, enraged by the sounds of fighting at her back. 

She heard a yelp behind her that sounded all too human, followed by Tarric’s snarl, “Hurry up! It’s no secret that you have trouble with these Aria but this one shouldn’t be that bad!”

“If _you’re_ so worried, come over here and figure this out!”

“ _Love_ to! But I can’t!”

One of the creatures spotted Aria and came charging at her, the thief only had seconds to realize she had been spotted before her knife left its sheathe and landed squarely between the monster’s eyes. It jerked to a halt and crumpled to the ground, the limbs twitching for a moment before going still.

“Wait! That’s it! A secret! What you have but cannot share!” she spun about and shouted to the wall, “A secret!”

There came a loud shifting sound and the wall split down the middle, moving aside and producing a small bowl on a pedestal. Aria leapt forward and snatched the key piece from the bowl just as she heard the click in the side of the wall she had been inspecting earlier. The escape was now open, they could get out!

“Tarric! The wall! Over here!” she spun about, cloak flying behind her while she raced to the doorway, pushing open the rock and beckoning to her companion to follow. 

Clutching at the front of his tunic, probably where Ragnar was hidden, Tarric ducked beneath the swinging sword of a monster and made a mad dash for the door. The creatures took a moment to realize their prey was escaping, before sprinting after him. Tarric cleared the crude archway just as Aria was sliding it shut, slamming it into place and latching it shut with the thick slab that had held it locked in the first place. On the other side of the door they could hear the muffled thuds of the creatures against the stone, their hissing and gargling sounds faint now due to the blockage in the wall.

Panting heavily, Tarric leaned against the wall and shut his eyes, Ragnar shifting and trembling at his chest in terror. Aria leaned her hands on her knees and bent over to catch her breath as well, only looking up after a few moments and laughing breathlessly while Tarric did the same. 

“See? I told—ah, you. Easy,”

“Yeah right, next time I’ll—hah, leave you,” 

“I knew I could count on you,”

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously you two? Fighting in the midst of all this... fighting?! Honestly! Incorrigible!


	16. It's Okay to Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning of language in this one xD  
> Then again, when does Aria NOT mouth off?

“How many pieces do we have now?”

Aria looked up from checking the strap around her horse’s girth, tightening it just a little before rummaging in her bag to produce all the pieces she held, Tarric held out the pieces he had and they looked them over.

“About seven now,” she said with a smile.

Tarric nodded and Aria tipped the rest of the pieces into his hand, “Why don’t we try to put them together? How many does that first riddle say we have left to find?”

The thief thought for a moment while Tarric began fitting some of the pieces together, taking out the tattered journal and flipping back to the original riddle she had read all those months ago after stealing the notebook. She ran her finger along the strange runes in the parchment and found it again, and, reading it aloud, she spoke:

 

_“The Door to the Vault_

 

_Nine in all,_

_All pieces for the heart,_

_To enter mine hall_

_Or to tear you apart.”_

She shut the book and pocketed it again, “Well, we at least know what a few parts of that damned riddle means,”

He nodded again, “Right, the nine are the key pieces, and to tear you apart could mean the whole task of finding all the shards,”

“But the ‘pieces for the heart’ bit I still don’t understand,” Aria watched while Tarric fit the pieces together, putting a boot into the stirrup and swinging up into her saddle in one fluid movement.

“Maybe it’s just ‘the heart’ as in the heart of the quest, which is the treasure?” he finished fitting them in place and tossed the key to Aria. The red-haired thief snatched it from the air and turned the now partially whole key over in her fingers; it was a rather large key, longer than her hand but not larger than her lower arm. The bow of the key formed what looked like a heart; made in a lace-like kind of latticework that was unlike anything that Aria had seen before and was fitted with a small opal stone. The blade was smooth and slightly twisted near the end as it flowed into the collar of the key, and though the metal seemed slightly aged and scratched, she could tell it was made out of a strange metal that none had viewed in a long time, though she could not identify it. The bit was only partially formed, but it appeared to fan out with what little was there. Along the blade of the key she could see falmer, snow elf, runes, etched into the metal, which probably would tell them the location of the treasure when fully formed.

Altogether the key itself would have fetched a nice price on any market, even with the state it was in. The opal at the bow was polished despite the slight damage to the key, and was about the size of the last segment of her thumb, it glittered even in the dim light from the overcast clouds and it made Aria smile. 

“Really I have no idea Tarric, but we’ll figure it out when we get to that vault,” she held up the key in her hand before pocketing it into the hidden pockets in her armor. “Two more left! Lets get going so we can get rich!” she smirked while he got into the saddle, holding Ragnar close and following behind her horse on the rocky path. They turned their horses south, towards the edge of the reach and the forests of Falkreath hold, their quest nearly over.

                                                        

* * *

  

The clouds only allowed a few cold beams of sunlight to reach through to the ground below, and the trees limited even that so the light of the sunset was difficult to determine. They were only able to tell it was sundown due to the fading light in the sky and the growing shadows between the trees.

Tarric and Aria had decided to camp for the night in a small gulley where they could keep out of the faint but cold wind that rustled through the trees. The light rain that had been soaking them for days had finally let up, but the clouds continued to jealously block the feeble sunlight from the world. Tarric was stirring a pot over the fire again, Ragnar at his side nibbling at a carrot that Aria had found as they passed a small mill on the side of a large, misty lake. Tarric had first refused the carrot, saying that Ragnar wouldn’t eat stolen goods, but the rabbit had filched the root from Aria when the both of them had been arguing and that had been that.

“He’s just as bad as you are!” Tarric had remarked in shock when Ragnar hopped away with the root between his little teeth. 

Aria had crossed her arms and chuckled, “I’m starting to like this rabbit more and more,”

 Once they had scouted out the area and tethered the horses, Tarric had set a fire and began making dinner. Aria was pouring over the journal in her hands, looking over the etchings in the parchment near the back of the book, a deep frown furrowing her forehead. The drawings indicated what seemed to be something precious above all the treasure, something incredibly important to the elven prince. It was shown in pictorial drawings, simple and symbolic, some of the falmer people holding such an object up towards the prince, whose hands were desperately grappling for it from his seat atop the throne. 

In many other sketches and rubbings she spotted more notes on this ‘object’ and in some of the writings she saw the repetition of the same word over and over again. Pulling out her translating page she read the letters and slowly translated them into distinguishable words, at least to her understanding. The letters soon formed the word ‘core’, but when she looked again, the letters formed something else, ‘heart’. Earning even more confusion from the thief, she looked to Tarric and then back to the book.

“There’s something that we’ve missed… I think,” she said quietly, gaining her companion’s attention, “There are these drawings, and etchings that talk about something called the ‘core’ or the ‘heart’ but it doesn’t say anything else beyond that, only that it’s the most precious thing in the entire treasure hoard to the snow elf prince,”

Tarric frowned, slowing in his stirring and scratching at his chin thoughtfully, “Maybe that’s what the first riddle means with ‘pieces for the heart’? It sounds pretty important,” he took the wooden spoon out and tasted the stew, nodding before taking their bowls and dishing it out. He slid the bowl to Aria and she grabbed it gratefully, “I mean, if it’s not mentioning a lot of it, it’s either too important or dangerous to record, or it’s not that important. Either or I think that ‘core’ is something to keep in the back of our minds maybe,”

Aria grinned, “You’re learning, doggy, I’m impressed,”

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head, _nightingale,_ ”

They ate in a pleasant silence, the fire crackling and snapping between them and sending sparks flying into the now darkened air. The food warmed Aria’s stomach and allowed her to relax ever so slightly, leaning back against a tree trunk with her half-eaten bowl cradled in her lap. Tarric tossed a slice of bread at her and she caught it, using the bread to sop up some of the stew. 

“We’re going to need to re-stock our supplies, we’re almost out of food,” Tarric muttered while rummaging in his bag, “We only have salted venison and maybe some potatoes left,” Aria only hummed in acknowledgement, tilting her head back and letting her full stomach comfort her for a small moment. Time passed slowly, as if they were in a small bubble where time slowed purposefully for them, allowing the two of them to enjoy a simple meal after the grueling traveling of the day.

Despite the lull of the warm food and a full belly, Aria’s keen ears picked up the rustling in the trees nearby and she sat forward. Apparently Tarric had heard it too for he was also staring in the direction of the ever-so-faint sound, his own hearing now sharpened from days in the Reach having to keep watch for any forsworn or Reach guards. This time, however, he held out a hand to Aria and crouched, making to casually go to the horses and return the saddlebags as if all was still well. She saw him slowly and silently draw his sword and keep it at his leg incase whoever or whatever was approaching could see him. Instead she heard the rustle again and when Tarric was close enough he jumped and grabbed whatever was hiding in the shadows from them.

There came a loud yelp as Tarric rolled down the hill and came up on top of the body, his sword pressed to the throat of the person. “You picked the wrong time to get lost, friend. What do you want here?” he growled, tilting the sword up and earning another cry of surprise.

“I’m not lost! I’m looking for The Nightingale! Let me go!” the body squirmed and Aria felt she recognized the raspy voice. Moments later she realized she saw the black tail swishing back and forth anxiously and she realized who it was.

“Tarric, stop, let her go! I know her,” Aria stood and moved towards the two of them. The man paused, before pulling away and standing above the hooded khajiit, keeping his hand on his sword and his sword drawn just incase.

She helped the young thief up and smiled behind her mask, “It’s been a while, Za’jir,” Aria said calmly, resuming her masterly tone with the thief before them. 

The khajiit turned her clear eyes to Aria and seemed almost relieved when she recognized the guild master. “I am very happy to have found you, especially after traveling this long with the… _dog._ ” She gave a distasteful look to Tarric, ears twitching beneath her hood. 

“You were sneaking up on us,” Tarric said matter-of-factly, but Aria put up her hand to quiet him for the moment. 

“Enough arguing, Za’jir, why are you looking for me? Also, why were you so clumsy in the shadows? I don’t think Brynjolf would neglect your training in my absence would he? Or else I’m going to use him for my personal target-practice dummy when I get back,” 

The footpad shook her head, “No, Nightingale, but I have been tracking you for a while, I have not been able to train much due to it. I did not think that approaching you I would need to sneak, since we are the same,” she looked chastised at Aria’s disappointed expression, like a child would be towards a scolding mother.

Aria hissed, “Just because we are of the same guild does not mean you can neglect your training, Za’jir. But we can discuss this later, what did you come to find me for?” she moved back to the fire, welcoming the newcomer to sit with them, though her tone was businesslike and cooler than her casual tone she normally took with Tarric.

The khajiit gave Tarric one last glare and came to sit down on a nearby rock, her tail wrapping about her feet. Tarric joined them and sat by the fire and stirred the pot broodingly, ignoring them for now. “Brynjolf sent me not long after you left, he has discovered something near the guild that could help with this ‘treasure hunt’, but he said that some guards arrived in Riften soon after and they were looking for him,” she pointed accusingly to Tarric, earning a jump from the other. “The dog has led guards to us! The guild wants him to answer for it!” she hissed furiously.

“I didn’t lead them to you! They weren’t even supposed to follow—!”

“Tarric! Be still!” Aria snapped warningly, her eyes flashing in his direction. Her voice was sharp and cold, and at first he looked back at her defiantly, before realizing what she was actually saying.

 _Be still or my reputation and your life go up in flames._  

“Those guards haven’t discovered their way down to the Ragged Flagon have they?” she looked back to Za’jir.

She paused, “Well… no but—”

“And have they found the secret entrance?”

“N-not really but—” 

“Then Tarric has _not_ led them to us. All guards know about Riften, they know we’re based there. They’re not going to find us now just because an outsider has come to the guild, outsiders have come before and we can’t worry about that now,” she explained, talking down Za’jir until the khajiit nodded and accepted Aria’s words.

“What about Brynjolf?” she asked quietly. 

Aria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Brynjolf is a big boy, and he can take care of the guild and himself until I return. We have two more key pieces so we should be back soon, take this news back to him and keep on alert if those guards are still sniffing around,”

Za’jir nodded and rose, “We look forward to your return, Nightingale.” With that she vanished into the darkness, her footsteps clearly softer than they had been before because they heard nothing when she disappeared beyond the glow of the firelight.

 

* * *

 

Aria could tell that something was bothering Tarric, he was quiet where he normally would have been chatting up a storm. As Aria thought about this, she realized he had been quiet for a number of days and she hadn’t thought to really notice it until now. Having been traveling since sunup, she had found the increased quiet somewhat unnerving, leaving her with a sense of something unspoken. Something was eating at her companion and her own curiosity was eating at her.

 _I feel like a damned child again… curiosity killed the cat, or, in this case, the rat._ She growled and pulled back on the reins of her horse just a little to slow down and fall in step beside Tarric. 

“So. Normally you’re talking up a storm before lunchtime, what’s keeping you from chatting my ears off today?” she didn’t look at Tarric, only keeping her eyes trained on the faint road in front of her. The man didn’t speak right away; probably surprised that she was the one initiating a conversation instead of the other way around. This amused her a little and she allowed herself a small grin beneath her mask. 

He sighed gently and leaned back into his saddle a little bit, “I thought you preferred me to be quiet, Nightingale,” he turned to stretch himself a bit and Aria laughed. 

“Ah, but see I’m so used to your mouthing off that I can’t help but miss it sometimes,” the thief slowed her horse a little more, “what’s eating at the dog, hmmn?” 

Tarric’s voice caught in his throat a bit, turning it into a slightly strangled grunt from him and he reached his hand up to rub at his throat confusedly. “It’s nothing, but you’ve not said a thing about… about what you feel,” he didn’t look at her at all. 

Taken aback, Aria started in the saddle, her hair crossing over her face when she did. She had barely thought about what Tarric had spoken to her at the stone altar, she had in fleeting moments since they had left that nightmarish dungeon, but not extensively. He had told her that he loved her, and Aria’s first thought was that he was lying, that he was delusional and didn’t know what he was saying. What he had said now completely obliterated any of those thoughts or ideas in a single blow. 

“I… I don’t know Tarric…” she spoke softly, her brow furrowing gently and his head whipped towards her.

“You don’t know? I told you how I feel… I’m serious Aria,” he looked hurt and Aria tapped her heels into her horse’s flanks very delicately to move forward, just so he couldn’t see her face. 

“I just said. I don’t know, I…” her short tone had him even more confused. Aria retreated into herself, her mind whirring like a wagon wheel. _No. I can’t. He’ll turn out like Alrik if I say anything, I can’t be responsible for another one, not another._ She shook her head, clenching her fists around the leather reins.

Tarric couldn’t see her face and he couldn’t hear her thoughts, so an angry expression broke out across his face and he growled, “You _what?_ Can’t look weak to anyone? Can’t actually feel anything at all because you’re so hard done by? What is it that’s so damn horrible that made it so you can’t feel anything?” he shouted furiously, making Ragnar retreat into his cloak in fear.

Rage sparked in her chest and she whirled around to face him, “I don’t have to answer to you! My business is my own, _dog!_ No one else’s!” _I’ll lose you if I let in any emotion, just like I did Alrik._  

“Oh _forgive_ me if I don’t understand the trials of the great _Nightingale!_ I’m just a lowly dog with no sense of hardship!” he roared back at her.

“Shut your mouth dog, or I’ll silence you with a dagger to your throat!”

“Is that your answer for everything? You’ll kill me?” he raised his arms and exposed his chest, “Go ahead! You’ve wanted to do it for ages I bet!”

She hissed, “Don’t tempt me, my knife is faster than your tongue,”

“By the Eight, Aria, what happened to make you like this? I love you but gods you drive me mad! What in the world turned you into this?” Tarric splayed his hands helplessly and it drove her over the edge of her patience and she stopped her horse and veered about.

“I’ve lost enough alright? My brother died because I brought him into my life and now you’re trying to butt in too! How the fucking hell am I supposed to react? The Nine take everything I care about away, so _yes_ something horrible _did_ happen to make me like this, don’t make me sugar coat a damn thing for you Tarric.” She raged furiously at him, stunning him so much that he leaned back in his saddle for fear of her actually throwing a knife at him. “It’s my damned fault that my brother died, my damned fault that you’ve been dragged into all of this and my fucking damned fault that I care about your sorry ass, is that what you want to hear?” Her rage started to ebb, giving way to hurt and pain, her hands clutched tight to the horn of her saddle and her shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

“Aria I–”

“No! You don’t get to speak!” she snapped at him, her red hair falling from her hood as she glared at him, any trace of weakness gone except in her eyes. “I care about you, you damned fool, and that’s what’s going to get you killed!”

Without waiting for Tarric’s reply, Aria turned her horse and spurred it forward into a fast walk, leaving Tarric the task of catching up to her. Heart racing and eyes burning, Aria rubbed at them with a gloved hand and tried furiously to get rid of the sting that signaled an onslaught of tears.

Suddenly she felt something warm clasp around her wrist and pull her hand away. When Aria flinched and raised the other hand to fight back, she saw Tarric, having caught up, leaning over in his saddle with a look, not of pity, but of understanding. He lowered her hand slowly, as if dealing with a frightened animal, and brushed back the red hair in her face with a gentle hand.

“It’s alright to hurt, you know,” he fixed her hood carefully, making no moves to touch her mask, “And it’s not weak to show it,”

For a split second, Aria wanted to lean into his hand, for once to just not care about keeping up her appearances and her reputation. Just to let someone else take care of her would give her such a wonderful feeling, like wrapping up in a soft blanket and hiding from the world inside its warm center. 

But the second passed just as quickly as it had come, and Aria scoffed beneath her mask, “I don’t need a pup like you telling me this,” yet she let him hold on to her wrist a moment more than her pride allowed, letting herself savor in that small moment of togetherness before it vanished and they separated. Any affection that could have passed between them had been in that fleeting moment, and to both of them it was both strange, frightening, and somewhat comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wipes away small tear* well... that was slightly heartwrenching for me, now to go off and kill something in Skyrim and bring back my resolve for the next few chapters!


	17. White Stag

The two travelers arrived at the temple around daybreak the next day, the rising sun finally breaching the cover of clouds and shining over the open ruin before them. The temple was small, a shrine really, its gray, stone walls covered in soft green moss and creeping vines. Several small archways dotted the short structure, followed by a large one in the center that acted as an entryway.

Aria dismounted stiffly, landing on the ground and placed her hands on her hips, stretching her back out with a groan while Tarric brought his horse up beside hers.

“So, this is the last one?” he asked, placing a sleeping Ragnar onto the saddle and swinging off, landing on the ground with a dull ‘thud’. 

The thief shook her head and rubbed at her stiff neck, “Second last, we have one more outside of Riften that we need to grab before we know the full location of the treasure door,” she smiled at him through her mask and scoffed, “What? Getting tired?”

“Oh not at all, just wondering when we could sleep in a bed, my back is getting tired of hard ground you know,” he stretched himself and pulled Ragnar down and into his arms, rubbing the rabbit’s belly and smiling as it twitched his nose. The sight made Aria smile a little, but she shook herself and sighed. 

“Well, you’re softer than I thought! Here I was thinking that you were hardier than that,” she prodded while she tied her horse to a nearby tree stump, Tarric following and doing the same thing with his own mount.

He sighed, “You know it was a joke, honestly,” yet he didn’t seem offended, instead the two of them bantered affectionately at each other, though neither of them would admit it.

Both companions headed into the forest temple, stepping over the overgrown threshold into the temple. Avoiding the thick, prickly brambles and ducking beneath the lush leaves that hung from all sides. To the right of the entrance was a short tunnel, lanced through with what golden light that managed to seep into the shadows through cracks in the ancient walls. Through the leaves and flora that dominated the walls, Aria could see reliefs and carvings that resembled those that they had seen in every resting place they had visited on the journey. Snow elves, the elf prince, something in his hand that seemed to be emphasized in all of the carvings she had seen. It tickled at her mind, but was expelled rather easily as she headed deeper, and further around, the temple.

The curved tunnels finally led to a second major archway, and the two of them emerged through a thick curtain of leaves and vines into a circular courtyard filled with sunlight. It must have been dug into the ground, because the walls seemed higher on the inside, reaching at least two stories above their heads, than on the outside.

Flowers blanketed the ground, and various insects, already starting about their daily activities, buzzed and flitted among the undergrowth. The courtyard felt warm, even though it was early morning and the dew was still barely drying on the grass. Aria enjoyed the warmth, finding that she basked in it now much like a cat, or like someone who hadn’t felt the sunlight touch their skin in years.

In the absolute center of the courtyard was a shabby well; it matched the whole temple in the way that it was covered in growth, half of the side was crumbled and falling apart, where the top where the bucket would have hung was practically nonexistent. Gazing around the quiet, little courtyard, Aria couldn’t help but feel a sensation of peace wash over her, making her body relax where normally she wouldn’t have relaxed.

 _I can’t believe that there are places like this still in the world… places just allowed to flourish without people in them…_ she breathed a soft sigh and glanced about, bringing her mind back to the task at hand when Tarric finally joined her.

While Aria looked for the next riddle, Tarric gazed about just as she had not moments ago, “This is… amazing…” he said, his voice awestruck and his tone much lowered than usual.

Aria nodded and brushed her hand along the wall of the far side, trying her best to not disturb the place too much. Her hand touched what felt like etched runes and she parted the thick curtain to spot the riddle beneath, her eyes lit up and she looked over her shoulder.

“Tarric! Over here!” she called him, the man jumped, pushing Ragnar up to his shoulder and approaching her. The both of them pulled back the leaves to reveal the whole riddle before them.

“Great! More brainwork, I love this kind of stuff by now,” he scoffed while reading the strange runes as Aria translated them with her book. It took her a few minutes to read through each of the faint runes in the stone, but she managed to read through each one and decipher the riddle, letting the leaves fall back when she was finished. 

Aria re-read the letters before she read them aloud to Tarric, “Are you ready?”

“Of course, I’m waiting with baited breath,” he raised his eyebrows and Aria shook her head.

 

_“I’ve measured it from side to side._

_‘Tis three feet long and two feet wide._

_It is of compass small, and bare._

_To thirsty suns and parching air.”_

Tarric sighed, “You know, out of all the riddles we’ve had to solve, this one is the prettiest so far,” he laughed when Aria punched him in the arm. 

“Just solve it, poet-wannabe,” she sat down on a soft mound of moss-covered stone, nearby the well and yawned. The warm, thick air was making her sleepy and she didn’t like letting her guard down, even around Tarric.

The man thought for a few moments, before starting to pace back and forth, and then around, the clearing. Walking in wide circles around Aria, stepping over fallen stones or branches in his way. The thief tapped her fingers lazily against her jaw line, yawning sleepily while she waited.

“So… it’s measured as three feet long and two feet wide… but it’s compass small, so it’s round,” he ran a hand through his hair, Ragnar jumping down from his arms and hopping to a patch of dandelions, nibbling on the yellow blossoms and twitching his ears. The rabbit shifted aside to let Tarric pass while the man thought, “so… ‘to thirsty suns and parching air’ must be… well it’s just what it says…”

Aria huffed, “If you keep talking like that I’m going to have to dig a new well just to get a drink, your ‘thirsty suns and parching air’ is making me thirsty…” she brushed her hair aside and looked at Tarric.

Tarric froze, “That’s it! A well! The answer is a well!” he pointed to the broken well, “Specifically this well, it’s the answer to the riddle!” when he said the answer there came a tiny spark from the well and Aria moved back, a questioning look on her face. There came a crackling, creaking, snapping sound from the inside of the well, the both of them, and Ragnar, staring at the hole while a bushy plant rose out of the well. It’s fronds and leaves unfurling and reaching to the sunlight, growing before their eyes and becoming a fully mature tree in moments. The two of them were completely awestruck by the strange phenomenon, so dumbstruck that they didn’t see the second last key piece dangling from an outstretched branch, just within arms reach.

Aria shook herself when Tarric reached for it, plucking the piece from the branch and slowly handing it to her. “It’s the second last one…” he said quietly, a smile on his face.

She stared at the piece in his hand, as if she were seeing it for the first time, but she blinked and cleared her head and took it slowly from him. “You’re right… then we have to get to that treasure!” she changed her voice and laughed as she turned from Tarric, heading towards the entrance again, “Alright, we’ve got the key, don’t forget the fuzzy hat-animal over there,” she swept her cloak along with her, and Tarric paused, unsure how to take her casual brush-off, but she did and he was used to this by now. He followed after her and the two of them left the place, just as serene and untouched as it had been when they had arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lets camp for tonight, I think we’ve done enough for today,” Tarric said when they reached the mountain pass between Falkreath and Helgen, the sun had already vanished behind the mountains, leaving the countryside in shadow while the sky was still bright with the light of the sun.

The two worked in silence, Aria reading over the journal and Tarric, as usual, making dinner. He stirred the pot with one hand resting on his jaw lazily, nothing really passing between the two of them except a pleasant silence that the both of them had come to learn to enjoy. They soon finished making the food and ate, the quiet of the forest stretching around them like a soft blanket. Finishing the food, Aria moved to set up the bedrolls while Tarric went to the river to fetch water.

That was then she heard a sound from the bushes, looking up to spot Tarric in the bushes, motioning her to come closer to him. Aria frowned and moved to the edge of the dying firelight, holding her hands out in confusion. Yet Tarric smiled and waved his hand to come closer, but with his other finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet.

“What?” she hissed at him softly, her brow knotted together in a frown when he reached out for her to give him a hand.

“Just follow me, and be quiet!” he seemed to be laughing while he took her wrist and pulled her into the dark between the trees. Instantly Aria’s alarms went off and her body tensed, she immediately wanted to wrench her arm back from Tarric’s hold but some part of her trusted him and allowed him to pull her into the dark.

He brought them to a hidden overlook and crouched on the ground, pulling her down with him to crawl through the branches of a small thicket. He parted some of the branches and smiled lightly through the dark at Aria. She could see him very clearly, having lived and done most of her life’s work in the dark. Tarric pointed through the parting in the leaves and Aria looked.

Below them was a shallow valley between the trees, cleared in the center of any foliage. Aria could see the many dark shapes of a small deer herd making their way through the forest, their hooves making not a sound on the soft forest floor. At the head of the silent group, Aria could see a large, white stag that practically glowed in the faint moonlight that sifted through the treetops. The stag kept an eye on the many does and young bucks that passed him by, he stood on the swell of the edge of the small valley, waiting for each of them to pass. Aria let her body relax while she watched, admiring the great creature’s antlers, they resembled the great branches of an oak tree, branching out and curving around its head. Aria’s face loosened and she let a smile creep across her features; the both of them crouched together in the thicket, watching as the herd pressed on through the woods.

“It’s amazing…” she said in a hushed voice, her eyes glancing over at Tarric, and she spotted a little relief gracing his expression. That was when she remembered that he couldn’t see her smile through the mask she wore, which had probably confused him. 

“Right? I thought that you would want to see,” he leaned back in the thicket while they watched, looking between each other. “Its wonderful how they all follow him, do you think that’s why they follow him? Because he’s different?” 

Aria looked at the deer, the white stag nuzzling one of the does while she passed, his ears flicking forward, “Maybe… or they follow him because he knows where to go?”

“But… how does he know where to go? How do they know to trust him? It’s a mystery, but it’s happening right in front of us,” he sighed and watched, the last few deer coming up the rise with a few other bucks following behind them, “I guess life is pretty precarious when you’re alone… so that’s why they follow one who’s strong, because it’s better than being alone. You make me think of that stag... you're kind of, solitary on your own, but you can have a lot more if you'd just let people in,”

His words hit Aria’s ears like a drum beat, she had a feeling from the beginning that his words were slightly directed at her. If anything he meant that being alone was harder than being with others, that the path she was taking was more dangerous than one would be if she weren’t alone. 

 _How can I trust someone enough to live like that? That’s blind faith… I’m not a sheep!_ She knew those were the words she would have said a few months ago when they had first set out, better yet she would have just grunted and left it at that. Yet now it was different, she knew that somehow she trusted Tarric, despite her general distrust of everyone else that wasn’t her. The thief was quiet for a long time, her gloved fingers brushing at her mask where her mouth was, her eyes deep in thought. 

It took her a few moments before she had made up her mind, her fingers slowly moving up to the edges of her mask. Tarric spotted the movement and he frowned, unsure what she was doing until Aria began to pull away the mask from her face. Time seemed to slow for a moment as she voluntarily pulled off the mask that she had covering her face, showing her features to the other. 

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed plainly, finally flashing him a very faint, very genuine smile.

Taken aback by her sudden action, Tarric took a moment to compose himself, completely and utterly stunned until he swallowed and leaned forward. “That’s one of the first time’s you’ve ever agreed with me.”

“There’s always a first time for everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I've been so busy with everything lately that I haven't gotten the chance to get this chapter finished, but here it is! I've been so distracted with my other fics that I've been having trouble getting through this one... It's more of a filler chapter though... I have the next two mapped out so it should be far easier now!!
> 
> Enjoy guys~


	18. Friendly Shadows

“Now there’s a sight I haven’t seen in ages!” Aria sighed happily when they came up the rise in the hill and oversaw the gray stone and dull-coloured wood of the gates to Riften. The air was damp with rain and the clouds spat a mist of it over the colourless countryside. Tarric wasn’t sure if he was happy to see the gates of the lakeside town, or uneasy; they approached the stables to the right of the town gates and left the horses with the stable hand. Taking their packs, Ragnar, and all the key pieces with them, they entered the gates.

Around them the cobblestones underfoot were wet with the light rain, they could see the smoke from the smithy near the docks and the air smelled of wet and charcoal, mixed with the fishy smell of the water down below the docks. Aria strode forward over a bridge with her head held high, her eyes glinting out from the shadows of her hood and the rest of her face covered by her usual mask.

“It’s good to be home,” she said, almost as if she were speaking solely to herself.

Tarric scoffed, “I’m just looking forward to a warm bed, instead of hard ground and miserable saddle-sores,” he put his hand to the small of his back and stretched with a light hiss as his muscles un-knotted themselves.

“You know, I’m thinking the same thing actually, if I see another saddle it will be too soon,” she led Tarric in the direction of the Bee and the Barb inn and tavern. “You’ll want to stay here for the night, they have good rooms upstairs but make sure to keep your bags close by… town of thieves you know,” she looked pointedly at two guards mulling about by the bridge, they took a look at her and both backed away just a bit.

“What about you?” Tarric raised an eyebrow as he followed her.

Aria opened the door to the tavern, “I live here Tarric, I have my own home,”

Tarric paused, looking slightly crestfallen at her words. His shoulders sank only a fraction, “Oh… alright then I’ll, um, find a room,” he shook himself and strode forward with her, noting her raised eyebrow and change in attitude.

“What’s with the long face?” she followed past him, grabbing a table near the back of the smoky tavern, she waved down Talen-Jei for a drink. The argonian gave her a only-vaguely annoyed look and slid two cliff-racer’s across the table at them. Aria took hers and drank casually, while Tarric just stared at his before taking a tentative sip. Ragnar cuddled into his lap, beneath Tarric’s hand and nuzzling him for attention, but the other barely moved. The light murmur of voices through the room was normal, and Aria was relieved that she could relax her guard a little here, unlike in the other cities and towns across Skyrim. 

Tarric still hadn’t answered her, and was remaining strangely quiet, now stroking Ragnar’s ears as if it were the only thing he could do at the moment. He would normally be talking up a storm, and it was unnerving her just a little. “Hey, what’s with the long face Tarric?” she repeated, trying to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry. It’s nothing that’s all, do I talk to him about the rooms?” he pointed only a little at Talen-Jei. 

She shook her head, “No you talk to Keerava, but Tarric its fine, you can stay with me,”

He pulled back, “Stay with you? I thought you wanted me to stay here?”

Aria sighed and pushed her red braid back behind her ear, into the shadows of her hood, “I was thinking that, but I think I’ve traveled with you enough that I can… well trust you a little. But I don’t want _any_ chaos, and I will know if you suddenly get light fingers,” she smiled beneath her mask, lifting it only a little for a drink, the shadows of the corner were keeping her face hidden to anyone. Aria was well known here, and everyone knew to give her a wide berth and avert their eyes unless absolutely necessary.

The man before her pulled back, disturbing Ragnar on his lap who grunted in discomfort and shifted to a more comfortable position. “A-are you serious?” he kept his voice low, knowing better by now than to speak too loudly in public. But Aria just waved her hand and silenced him without another word, her patience too short for all the ‘sappy thank you’s’ that she knew Tarric would throw at her.

Knowing this, Tarric shut his mouth and thanked his good luck while he followed Aria towards her home, happy that she at least trusted him this much by now. It made his chest feel a little warmer, even with the damp, overcast evening that hung about the town.

                                                     

* * *

 

 

Darkness and gloom seemed to be the forever present in Riften; every corner was gray and shadowed, especially the docks beneath the main ring of the city, which housed the less wealthy and a small manner of odds-and-ends shops. Tarric shifted his shoulders and Ragnar slipped further into his hood to rest at his neck for warmth. Tarric felt uncomfortably damp in every recess of his clothes, his skin, boots and more. He felt absolutely miserable. 

Yet Aria was completely changed, her back was straight and her steps steady and sure-footed. She had transformed, but in the way a cat would after a nap, she was more alert and better spirited than she had ever been outside of Riften. Though her attitude was thorny as usual, her tongue had lost none of its sharpness, and she didn’t seem at all gentler than before, but her snappy demeanor had diminished by a fraction. She tolerated more of Tarric’s questions and his observations, sometimes even agreeing with him, and it was a huge surprise to Tarric, and a relief.

She led the way along the slippery docks, Tarric keeping one hand brushing against the damp stone foundation that led up to the main town plaza. Aria’s eyes darted here and there, but she knew that the guards never ventured down this far, it was her territory. She brought Tarric through an iron gate that he had been through before, and down a set of stone steps into the dark Ratway.

Soon arriving in the Ragged Flagon, Aria breathed deeply and walked across the small bridge to the tavern in the cistern. Tarric still felt out of place, but now he felt a little more at home than he had when Aria had brought him here months prior. 

“Well look here, I thought we’d seen the last of you lass,” a familiar voice greeted her and she looked up to see Brynjolf sitting at one of the tables, sipping a drink from a scratched tankard.

Aria instantly headed for him, her stride strong and confident, and punched him in the shoulder. “You old hack, have you not moved since we left? Honestly Bryn, sitting here on your ass for all these months?”

“Oh yes, I didn’t move at all,” he chuckled deeply and kicked aside a chair for her to sit in, “Why don’t you two take a seat, rest for a bit, hmmn?” he took another swig and swallowed, brushing off the drink from his beard. Aria sat down slowly and motioned for Tarric to sit opposite her and Brynjolf around the table.

Brynjolf leaned back and waved his hand, “So have the two of you intrepid explorers found all of the pieces yet? Has the boss pulled through and pulled you through every part of training we’ve got?” he glanced at Tarric with a grin, his eyebrow raised. 

Tarric smirked back at Brynjolf and shrugged, “I think I’ve handled things rather well,” his hood wiggled and Ragnar poked his nose out, slowly nuzzling his way out so that his ears popped up and tickled Tarric’s ear.

“A friend I see?” Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at Ragnar, “I’m surprised the lass hasn’t made dinner out of it yet.” Looking offended, Ragnar snorted and retreated a little into Tarric’s cloak, making Brynjolf smile and Tarric laugh. “Not the most humorous little fellow now is he?”

“He doesn’t take kindly to being called ‘dinner’, or any other such manner of thing,” Tarric explained, stroking the rabbit’s brown ears soothingly.

“I still want to make a hat out of it… but the rabbit grows on you after a while,” Aria remarked with a huff, leaning back in her seat and sipping her drink. The red of her hair just draping a little from the shadows of her hood while her blue eyes glanced and darted between the two of them. “So Bryn, you had Za’jir contact me about something, what is it?” 

Brynjolf’s mouth curved into a smirk while he leaned forward on his elbows, “Well, I’m sure you’re missing one piece right? I think I’ve figured out where it is,” he placed his tankard down on the gritty surface of the table and shooed a curious spider away from it.

“And why haven’t you gotten it Bryn? You don’t need a ‘riddle translator’ to get the key pieces,” she raised her eyebrow at him scornfully. Though Tarric felt she was being overly harsh on the man, and was about to jump to his defense, but Brynjolf just began a rough, chortling laugh that made Tarric pause.

“You still haven’t lost any of your bite lass! There’s no need to be harsh, but you’ll want to see this one, it takes two to open the door and I know how you feel about your own personal quests,” he wagged his finger at her. Aria remained stoic and stone-faced, but the atmosphere around her seemed to lighten just a little. 

The thief then turned to Tarric, “Will you come with us? Or are you staying here?”

Tarric shook his head, “I’ll stay, you two get the key, I’ll get supplies.” He grinned, “besides, you could do with a break from my insistent questions I think, though if you’re sure you wont miss my riddle solving skills?”

Brynjolf’s laugh was louder this time, a bellowing laugh that startled Tarric back into his chair and Ragnar into his hood. “Hah! This one is sharp as a whip, you’ve done a good job, Nightingale!” Tarric’s stunned face turned into a smile while Brynjolf continued to laugh, settling the atmosphere completely.

 

* * *

 

 

Tarric walked around town that afternoon, browsing the stalls in the marketplace and collecting supplies for the journey ahead. Though they weren’t sure where the treasure was just yet, they had agreed that the hoard itself was probably not nearby any of the key pieces.

 _Besides, best to be prepared for anything, you never know what will happen with us._ Which to Tarric was quite true; they had been captured, nearly killed, chased, trampled, he knew now to expect anything when he was with Aria. The former guard stretched and handed Ragnar a piece of leek that he had bought from a stall, the rabbit preferred to stay under Tarric’s hood where he could stay dry and away from the ground.  
  
Tarric brushed off some curious children who were mulling about the square, probably children from the orphanage curious of a traveler, as many children were. He had already bought salted meats and herbs for travel, replenished the water skins, and bought vegetables for Ragnar and for stews. He had to buy more wine and healing elixirs, before he could head back to Aria’s meeting place by the stables. She had told him to wait for her there when she returned with Brynjolf and the final key piece. 

Tarric was eating a slice of bread by the well when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and was suddenly spun around. Tarric jumped and instantly, whether it was from constant seasoning from Aria or instinct by now, he grabbed a knife he had hidden at his waist and held it out to his assailant.

“You touch me again and I’ll have your throat open!” he snapped, before he recoiled and realized that the one who had grabbed his shoulder was none other than his former commander from Solitude. A look of pure horror passed over Tarric’s face but he still did not bring his dagger down, his eyes hardening and his stance shifting so that he could run, and run fast. “What are you doing here…?” he said in a hushed and slow tone, the muscles in his shoulders hardening.

The man’s square jaw shifted as he smirked, “Why don’t we take this away from prying eyes?” he clenched the other’s shoulder and moving them away to the docks, and Tarric realized that there were two guards at his back, also with Solitude uniforms and shields. Tarric’s heart instantly started to race, and beneath his cloak piled at his back he could feel Ragnar trembling against his jerkin. The men led Tarric out the door in the wall of Riften and down the steps into the docks; the air stank of fish and rotting weeds, he could smell another stink that made him think of alcohol and lamp oil. Tarric could practically taste the fish in the air and it made his nose wrinkle while his former commander moved them to a secluded part of the docks.

When they came to a stop, Tarric clenching his knife and Ragnar well hidden beneath his cloak, the two guards stood behind Tarric and the commander facing him on the narrow walkway. The reflection of the water rippled across Tarric’s vision when the sun flashed out from behind the clouds for a split second.

“Alright, what do you want Commander…” Tarric’s voice was calm for now, his former self would be squeaking and uttering excuse after excuse, but now he was hardened and he kept his face even and straight. “If you think that I’m going to go back with you to Solitude quietly, then you’re wrong…”

The man before him laughed, running his hand over his short, gray hair and over his weathered face, “Look Mercius, I’m here looking for more than just a common ‘murderer’ and a ‘thief’. I’ve heard that you’ve been working on an even bigger prize, and that is why you ran when you did. You’re a strategist Mercius, and I like that in a soldier,”

Tarric’s green eyes flashed, “What _prize?_ You’re speaking nonsense. I’m not that child anymore, I wont take orders like this,” he snapped venomously.

“Ah I see you’ve truly adopted the demeanor of those you hunt… but I know you’re true goal. To bring in what only some young soldiers have dreamt of bringing to justice, the guild master of the thieves guild. I have heard much about them, but not enough, to bring them in would be just as illustrious as bringing in the leader of the Dark Brotherhood.” He waved his hand casually, “To bring them in, you’d be promoted to captain in no time,”

Tarric snarled, “I don’t want to be promoted _sir._ I have no interest in what you’re saying to me and I would request that you please leave me alone.” The boy turned to leave, but the guards behind him whipped out their shields and pressed him back towards the commander. Tarric hissed and turned back, “Let me go! I’ve learned much since I left Solitude, and I wont go easily,” he clenched his fist around the dagger he held. 

The commander snorted and shrugged, “I see, Mercius really I think you’re very into character right now. See all I need to know from you, is where the _rat_ is planning to go next? We will reinstate you back at home once the guild master is in irons, all charges… dropped,” he said the final word slowly, tantalizingly offering it to Tarric.

A small voice in his mind piped up and his heart jumped, but it instantly fell and his eyes sparked again, “You know, a few months ago I might have taken that offer… but if you so much as speak to me again like this and threaten my comrade… then I will kill you myself, no need to get the Dark Brotherhood involved. You’ll just vanish from the world, and no one will ever remember who you were… not even the _rats…_ ” Tarric then pushed his way through the two guards roughly, knocking one from the dock and sending him slipping into the water with a splash.

He stormed back up the docks, completely ruffled by the man and infuriated, _I might have betrayed Aria months ago for my old life back. But now… not in a million years._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys! I'm still alive!! 
> 
> Things have gotten really intense lately, but now I can successfully say that updates will be happening more often now due to me finishing most of my work!! 8D
> 
> And wow... It's been a year since I started this fic and it's still strong and going! Aria and Tarric are still going strong heheheh


	19. Keep Your Friends Close, and Your Enemies Closer

Aria and Brynjolf shoved the rock wall aside together and entered a small, dry cave. They were a few miles outside of Riften and the cave was just a little ways off the trail. She had left Tarric back in town to get ready for the next phase of their journey, and somehow she found herself missing his company when she stepped into the cave with Brynjolf. The cave itself was dimly lit from the light outside the entrance, and Aria could smell dust and dirt in the air while she approached the far wall and squinted at the mural.

It was much like the murals of the other locations, though it illustrated the same prince as before, the item in his hand seemed to be enlarged. From what Aria could see from it, the item was much like a large stone or egg; she doubted it could be an egg, but she didn’t quite care at the moment. At the base of the mural was a tiny pond that once would have held fish that thrived in caves, but it had been long-since empty from the looks of it. Not even plants lived in the pool, only cave moss and lichen, and that was few and far between in this dark place.

The thief touched the wall and ran her fingers over the runes, “Have you translated it?” she looked to Brynjolf.

“No lass, remember? I couldn’t get in here without your help, and I didn’t tell anyone else about it as I know you prefer,” he waved a hand at her, “but we can decipher it with that little book you have right? Wont take long at all,”

Narrowing her eyes, she brought out the book and began to translate it, holding the weathered and worn paper between two gloved fingers and glancing from it to the mural and back while her hand scribbled with a piece of charcoal on the other page.

 

_“Alive without breath,_

_As cold as death;_

_Never thirsty, ever drinking,_

_All in mail, never clinking.”_

 

She read the riddle aloud and Brynjolf listened to every word, she sat down on the gritty floor of the cave while she watched the wheels turn in the man’s head. Aria leaned her head on her hand and began to think herself, but nothing about the riddle at all, her eyes tracing the mural of the prince and the ‘stone’ he held. 

 _What in the nine is that? This is starting to get suspicious… some weird stone that the prince seems to idolize, maybe it’s a giant diamond like the Eye of the Falmer? But no, people would have heard more about it like that if it were some massive gemstone. It would have been made into legends or something…_ she sighed smoothly, _but the treasure of Volund-zel is scarcely known about… only that whoever tries to find it ends up dead or worse, babbling like a lunatic and stuck in some cage like an animal._ It was true, everything she had heard about the treasure, which was not a lot, always ended badly for the adventurer. So far things had gone surprisingly better than she had thought, although she had lost her brother to the quest years ago when she was young and stupid, so far the quest was alright despite the few hiccups in between.

 _This worries me,_ she thought quietly, _things shouldn’t be this easy, and it bothers me that the only things we’ve had to face were trolls, a few jail cells and minor injuries. The worst really was a grave of demonically reanimated corpses, but other than that… nothing._ That was what put her off, because she knew there was no such thing as easy, there was always a catch at the end no matter what.

While lost in her thoughts, Aria didn’t hear Brynjolf’s answer until he cleared his throat and stood before her. The thief looked up, instead of gawking in surprise at him, her eyes shaded themselves and she met his gaze. “Well?” she held out a hand questioningly.

“A fish, that’s the answer,” as he said it, the indent in the wall that showed the ‘stone’ that the prince seemed to covet, shifted aside with a grating sound. Behind it stood the final key piece, the end of the piece that would eventually fit into a lock. The end looked tattered, but when she reached up to take it, the dust rubbed away to reveal a dark, glittery type of metal, again like none she had ever seen before. 

She brought it out of it’s hiding place and held it between her and Brynjolf, the both of them gazing at it. “Well I’ll be… that’s some strange… wonderful thing there lass. Does the rest of it look like that?”

“Yeah, it does. Weird little thing isn’t it?” she held it up to the dim light, like a jeweller inspecting a fine diamond. “It’s the last piece, now we’ll know the location!” she grinned at Brynjolf, though he couldn’t see her face from the mask, he could tell she was smiling and he chuckled.

“Alright, well as long as I get a nice chunk of it when you find it,” he waved his hand at her and herded Aria towards the entrance. 

She snorted and stepped out, stretching in the cool air of the afternoon like a cat, “Oh don’t you worry, the whole guild will get a cut if this treasure is really the size it’s supposed to be,” she sent him a short wink and swung into the saddle of her horse waiting for Brynjolf to join her with his mount before they set out back to Riften. Aria’s eyes sparked deviously now, an old stirring of her younger, more ambitious self. It was time to finish this part of the quest, and she wanted her prize.

 

* * *

 

Tarric waved a hand when he spotted Aria approaching from the road, her horse trotting at an easy pace while she came up the rise of the hill and slowed to a halt. She leapt from the saddle, her cloak flying behind her like a fan and settling around her when she landed. Aria held up the final piece of the key victoriously, and Tarric could see and feel a different kind of enthusiasm from her than he had before. It was as if she were young again, and it made Tarric smile at her.

“Someone is happy,” he took the offered piece of the key and looked at it curiously, admiring the odd metal. She had left the rest of the key with him while they had retrieved this piece, so Tarric took out the key and fit the final piece together. The cracks of the object then began to glow a faint, golden colour and the both of them heard a crackling sound, and when the glow faded the key was one and whole again.

“Would you look at that,” Brynjolf joined them and stared with them at the stables. Shaking his head he chuckled and stabled his horse, “You two take it easy in that ruin now, don’t want to be losing my chief in command in her prime,” Aria hissed at the man angrily while Brynjolf headed back into Riften, vanishing into the shadows that seemed to just hang around the entire town.

Watching him go before turning back to Tarric, Aria whipped her head back and Tarric saw her red hair fly a little out of the hood. “Come on! Read the location!”

The switch was surprising to him, but he smiled and held the key up, “You’ve got your translating book?” he held the key so that the blade was visible, where they could see the completed falmer engraving in full light.

“Yes, hold on,” she brought out the journal and flipped through.

 

_“To the North of the throat you go,_

_Be wary o’ traveler of fear and woe._

_Leave all your ties and fears behind._

_Tis Snowpine Grotto you must find.”_

Aria nearly jumped in excitement, “Finally! It isn’t some horrible riddle! North of The Throat of the World, and it’s in a place called Snowpine Grotto! We can find this!!” she tugged the map she had out of the book and laid it open against the saddle. “Where is it…?”

Tarric hummed thoughtfully, “I’ve actually been there before, its between Korvanjund and Fellglow Keep actually. It’s going to be cold up there so we’re going to need to pack some extra furs for the journey,” he said aloud, readily making room in his list of ‘to buy’ for the surplus items they would need.

“Alright! Then lets get them and get going already,” Aria let the stable hand take her horse while she closed the book and it vanished into her cloak again. Tarric tried to hand the key back to her, but after a short pause she shook her head, “You keep it, I think I can trust you with a key at this point,”

Taken aback again by her unusual lenience, Tarric continued to smile while he pocketed the key. “Very well, lets get some furs and head out in the morning, traveling at night is not a good idea right now,” he was afraid, and almost sure that Aria was about to whine about the choice, but she was soon back to her usual countenance and she nodded shortly. 

“Then we’ll set out at dawn, and we’ll be rich before the end of the week!” she said surreptitiously.

“Rich? Well it seems we got here just in time.” A third voice joined hers, she and Tarric spinning about to see his former commander, standing with his hands on his hips and a proud, arrogant smirk on his aged face.

Almost instantly, Aria’s mood diminished like broken glass, splitting into a million pieces. Her body tensed to run and her eyes hardened, Tarric could sense her mind whirring like a bird’s wings, thinking of a way out. The man was joined by a large contingent of guards, all with their swords drawn and shields ready; when Tarric looked behind he could see more of them flanking every possible escape route. 

They were trapped. 

“What do you want?” she snapped, her tone as hostile as her eyes were cold.

The commander shrugged, “Nothing really, but I heard from a little… doggy, that the guild master of the thieves guild was meeting here. Turns out we were right, eh boys?” he glanced to his guards and they all snickered and laughed in agreement. 

“Get out of my way then, show some proper respect, weasel,” Aria hissed.

“Oh but we are, see, we’re not taking any half measures with _you,”_  

On his final word, the men suddenly rushed Aria. She had been expecting it and she managed to leap upwards and use their shields to dance nimbly over their heads and away. Yet when she landed on the other side of the throng, a whole new batch of soldiers were somehow there to greet her and she yelped in surprise. Aria tried to twist around to change course, but her foot slipped on the ground and she collapsed on the ground, where the soldiers overwhelmed her and took hold of her arms and immobilized her hands. She shrieked and bellowed like a wounded animal, her eyes blazing and her head whipping about as her hood fell back, and a blaze of red hair lashed from the dark cloth like fire set to cloth.

Tarric had gathered his senses after the first wave, and he had drawn his sword and started to attack the men holding Aria, frantically trying to free her. His mind raced while he fought through the men towards her, only to feel a firm pain sprout from his lower back and his legs grow useless and limp. Tarric crumbled to the ground, only managing to catch himself with his arms as his eyes widened in shock.

“Wha—?” he looked up to see his former commander, gripping Aria’s chin with his two hands. Thankfully her mask was still on, but her eyes were a mix of surprise, fear, and pure hatred when she glared at the man before her, as if he were the only thing standing between her and the thing she most desired. Which in this case, he was.

“I guess we have you to thank, Mercius,” his commander mused in a sickly sweet, overly cocky tone. “Without your information, we couldn’t have caught this rat. Though unfortunately I’ve changed my mind, it’s not enough to reinstate you,”

The venomous, murderous gaze Aria was giving slowly shifted to Tarric, now blended with horror. His heart fell and he gave her a stunned look back. “I had nothing to do with this! I told him nothing!” 

“You backstabbing little liar! You treacherous mutt! I’ll run you through with a hot iron and watch you burn to death from the inside out!” Aria pulled at the men restraining her, red hair flying and her voice laced with poison. “You hear me dog? I. Will. KILL. You!” she spat at the ground while the men hauled her away.

Her eyes never left Tarric and he never left hers. He wanted to shout every excuse and apology at her, to tell her that he had said nothing, that he never would have, but another sharp pain bloomed at the back of his head and he collapsed on the cold, hard ground. His vision swam with colours, particularly the flame red of her hair and the cold blue of her eyes, before everything faded to black and he saw no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I had time to chuck in one more short chapter before I vanish for good now~
> 
> The next chapter will be a WHOPPER guys, I already have it planned out~ So sit tight and enjoy the suspense! Because I wont be back for a little while. <3


	20. Laid Bare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter can be a little... uncomfortable. I had a hard time writing it. So please, if you're overly sensitive to torture... don't read!
> 
> And also, HAPPY (late) ANNIVERSARY! Rat's Gold has now been going for a whole year!! wow... it's been so long 8D Thank you to all my readers, and all those who send me kudos! An especially big thank you goes out to kindclaws for all the wonderful comments <3 You're awesome <3

A dull throb was what woke Tarric slowly from his unconsciousness, pain that beat at the back of his skull and felt like he had a large welt. He was afraid to even move from his position when he became aware that he was lying on the ground, wet and cold. Then he felt something prodding and shaking him awake, shifting him and making his head hurt even more. He groaned in protest, but his body wasn’t going to allow him to rest any more.

Moving his arms first, he heard the scrape of his leather armor across stony earth and it hurt his ears. Forcing himself to rise he moved his hands beneath his chest and stiffly pushed off of the ground to a kneeling position. One hand pressed to his head where he was sure he could feel dried, and some not, blood caking his unruly hair. Tarric winced and his eyes started to readjust to the gray light of the world, he blinked once or twice to regain focus.

That was when he saw Brynjolf, crouched in front of him and frowning deeply. “Easy lad, you got hit pretty hard there.” Said the man, but Tarric couldn’t hear him very well. It was like his ears had been stuffed with cotton and his head were made of heavy stone; he struggled to keep himself upright while his memories slowly came back to him. 

“Aria… where’s Aria?” he hissed and his voice felt unfamiliar to him somehow. 

“Watch it lad, use her other name here. I was hoping you could shed some light on the situation, when I heard that there had been a commotion at the gate I came to check, and found you with your face in the mud and Nightingale gone,” he helped Tarric to stand, shakily, and regain himself. 

Tarric shook his head, “I… we were talking about the treasure. I remember that. Then something happened, my old commander showed up and they…” he pressed a hand to his head again, stemming his headache a little. “Then they took her away, and hit me on the head,” 

Brynjolf scoffed, “How in Nocturnal’s name did they manage to take her? That lass fights like a cornered boar,”

“No! No they had too many! She… she was distracted. They said I turned her in, I didn’t! I swear I said nothing to them!” his memories rushed back and Tarric started to frantically look about, trying to find his horse. “I have to get her out of there! There’s no telling what they’ll do to her!”

A suspicious look, followed by a firm hand to Tarric’s shoulder, stopped him solid, “Look lad, one of my footpads saw you chatting it up with someone before, looked like an imperial commander they said. That doesn’t really match your story,”

“I told him nothing! I told him that I had no interest in what he was telling me and that if he harmed her then I would deal with him myself, I promise I said nothing but those words! Somebody else must have said something, I just don’t know who!” he held his aching head again as his vision spun, striving to keep balanced on his trembling legs. 

“Still suspicious, but I believe you,” Brynjolf steadied Tarric and sighed, “I just don’t know how we’ll get her back… they’ve taken her somewhere away from most of the imperial army,”

Tarric stiffened, “Where? Where is it?” he gripped Brynjolf’s arms, his grip tight and his expression desperate. He didn’t know how long it had been since her capture, but by the light of the overcast clouds it was definitely late in the day by now. He could have been lying there for more than just hours, he didn’t know for sure. 

“Calm down lad! You need to calm down and think! If you go rushing in they’ll just kill you. Then you will be no help to Nightingale or yourself,” he shook Tarric and the other’s head cleared a little while his sight dimmed with thought. “Think, she will be heavily guarded.” 

Still shaking his head and gripping Brynjolf at the arms, Tarric hung his head, shaking not with fear but with anger; pure, unequivocal anger. “You don’t understand… She thinks that I sold her out. She _hates_ me…” her words still echoed in his mind, now that he had cleared it. He could still see the fury in those azure eyes, the flying red of her hair and the pure hatred that she had thrown at him.

_“I’ll run you through with a hot iron and watch you burn to death from the inside out!”_

He couldn’t breathe; Tarric could only hear those words, those well-deserved words.

 _“You hear me dog? I. Will. KILL. You!”_

He tried to breathe, _but I didn’t tell them anything! I kept quiet because…_ he couldn’t bring himself to think any further. He couldn’t see who else could have ratted them out, other than Brynjolf and he was definitely not the one to do something like that. Tarric was sure of it. He tried to go through any manner of list he could have had in his head of possible suspects, but nothing came through. Yet this wouldn’t help Aria, for she was already caught and probably being tortured as he was standing around like an idiot, wondering who had caused this. He sorted through his head; the events had happened, he was incapable of changing them. Instead he let out a loud, ragged sigh. Tarric then straightened himself up and gave Brynjolf a hard, clear stare after he had recollected his thoughts.

“Tell me where she’s being held if you know, I’m going to get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do. I owe it to her,” he clenched his hands into fists. “I did this somehow, so I need to fix it.”

  

* * *

 

The small outpost Brynjolf had described was actually a fort, situated between Riften and the Throat of the World. Hidden by rocky canyons and thick underbrush, it was only accessible by a small dirt path off the side of the main road to Ivarstead, one that was hard to find even for Tarric. Ragnar was hidden under his cloak, and could sense that something was happening. The rabbit had refused to stay with the horses, and Tarric was forced to bring him along. Though the comforting warmth on his back made him feel a little better, despite the dangerous circumstances.

He remained low to the ground, keeping to the thicker underbrush that concealed him from any tower sentries that could have been guarding the fort. He didn’t want to come all this way for nothing and be caught before he could rescue Aria. His hand on his sword hilt, Tarric crept around to the walls and stifled his breath. He had left his horse nearby for a quick escape once he had gotten Aria out of the fort. 

Tarric moved quickly and silently around the fort wall until he came to a spot in the stone that Brynjolf had told him about. The thief had once sent a few footpads to check the place and see if there was any loot worthy of stealing, they had found a small, weak entrance but otherwise had discovered nothing of value about the fort itself. Tarric soon found the entrance, an iron grate set across a shallow tray that led underneath the wall. When he touched the grate he found that it was so rusted that one of the bars came loose almost at his touch; clearly the fort was not as well kept, as he had previously feared. The bars were wide enough for him to squeeze through, so he did and he began creep along the narrow tunnel beneath the wall. He had a horrible, crushing feeling of stone above his head, but promptly ignored it and fixed his eyes on the bars ahead of him. He also ignored the fact that he was sloshing through a foul, murky water, but it did not look, or smell like water.

Getting to the end of the tunnel he looked out and saw a courtyard framed thickly with snowberry and thistle bushes. Grinning slyly to himself, Tarric tested the bars at the other end, and was even more surprised to find they opened completely on a broken hinge. It was then that he spotted a funny little symbol carved into the stone above one of the hinges that were at eye level, Tarric squinted and leaned closer to it. The symbol was a divided triangle, upside down and crossed over the tip with a circle, it jogged his memory a little and he couldn’t remember exactly where it had been from. Something Aria had said on one of those many afternoons riding together through Skyrim, and he got a bad feeling from the symbol that made his stomach sink.

Ignoring, one more thing, his stomach, Tarric shook himself and proceeded forward. On his back, Ragnar squirmed uncomfortably, sensing his discomfort. He slipped into the courtyard and peeked over the bushes, only to groan inwardly when he saw the entire, cobblestoned yard was filled with soldiers. It was late in the day, so many were finishing up drills or exercises. Tarric’s eyes scanned the yard and saw a door that led to the rest of the fort, probably a place he could use as entrance to where they were keeping Aria. Thinking about his training and recalling old regimes, he knew that no matter what, they would keep the prisoners in barred cells on one of the lower levels of the fort. Seeing as there was only one more level above the door, she must be underground somewhere. Also thinking of her rank and her reputations as a guild master, and a notorious thief, she would probably be even lower and under tighter security.

Still looking over the yard, Tarric saw a stable nearby the entryway. The snowberry bushes grew right up to it, so he could use it for cover and cross the stables to the door. Yet there was a stretch of open ground before it that would surely get him caught, no matter how quiet he was. He wasn’t like Aria; he couldn’t get in and out of places without so much as a glance. Tarric would have to think of something else if he wanted to get in.

That was when he caught sight of the torches of the barn and the dry hay the horses were lazily munching on. He had an idea.

Moving swiftly through the bushes, taking care not to cause any disturbances, Tarric made his way to the stables. Once he reached the low wall, he waited for the precise moment when the soldiers would turn away in their drill, and he vaulted over the wall and into the hay, startling one horse. He quickly rose and stood in front of it, holding it’s head gently between his hands and stroking it’s muzzle to soothe it. The horse nickered and nuzzled him, before going back to eating its dinner.

Moving very slowly as to not disturb the other horses, Tarric moved from stall to stall and finally arrived at the other side of the stable. There was one bush thick enough on the other side that he could hide in, and it was right beside the door. He snatched one of the torches and tossed it into the hay of the nearest stall, he made sure that the sconce holding the torch broke, making it look like it had just been shoddy craftsmanship and not an intruder that started the fire. Luckily, the neighboring stall did not have a horse in it. He was thankful that the beasts were tied up, for it would cause more of a distraction if the soldiers had to break them loose. Within moments the stall was aflame, and the horses started bucking and screaming in alarm. It took a few minutes for the soldiers to register what was happening, and they came rushing to the stables, bellowing for water and ordering that the horses be released.

Tarric used their confusion to slip through the door to the fort, and hide inside an alcove just within the entrance while two nearby soldiers rushed out to help. 

He smiled happily at his success, _Aria would have been proud of that! I can be crafty when called upon._ His heart sank, _if she’ll even speak to me after this to begin with, or if she doesn’t kill me._  

Now things became tricky, he was stuck in close quarters with a fort _filled_ with armed, hostile, men. He could hear the sounds of drink and music coming from a few halls away, and guessed it was the main mess hall where the soldiers shared meals. Obviously his former commander was taking no half measures, not with his prisoner, since the din of the hall was loud enough to be heard from such a distance.  He moved with accurate steps, remaining as close to the dark as he could as he neared the hall, for it was the only way he could go in the narrow passages. 

Nearly slipping on a bucket leaned against the wall, Tarric skirted it and paused at the line of light that appeared from the hallway. He could hear the sounds of dining and drinks being poured, the clatter of plates and men’s chatter. Ragnar shifted and popped his little nose out from his cloak, whiskers tickling Tarric’s cheek. The rabbit sniffed at the air and twitched his ears, listening intently. Tarric tried to shove him back into his cloak, but the rabbit pushed back against his hand and wriggled up to his shoulder. The small animal then hopped with a kick to the floor, landing on his paws he skidded away into the hall. 

“Ragnar!” Tarric hissed, barely above a whisper. Seconds after the rabbit’s disappearance, the mess hall grew louder.

He could hear shouts of “What was that?” along with, “Who let a skeever in here?” and a, “Grab it! Before it gets to the kitchens!” and he heard the men all go chasing after the little brown rabbit.

Though he was worried for Ragnar, Tarric couldn’t let his luck, or Ragnar’s apparent diversion, go to waste. He had a feeling that Ragnar would be fine, though concern had settled in his stomach along with his earlier dread. Tarric went on down the corridor, twisting and turning with it until it came to a fork. He glanced from one to the other, heart pounding in his chest. It wasn’t until he heard the soft murmur of voices that he chose the right path and followed it, creeping closer to the sounds of conversation.

“…at it all day. I wonder if that prisoner can hold up?” he caught the end of a sentence and his ears pricked.

A ragged cough followed it, “Some say this one has withstood any kind of torture,” 

“I doubt it, at least not the captain’s kind,” Tarric could hear the creak of wooden chairs and the crackle of a fireplace. He came to a doorway and peered around it, to see a dead-end room where two guards were chatting away, one of them plucking feathers from a dead chicken. 

The man plucking the chicken shrugged, “Been hearing screams off an’ on, not sure how long this one will last at this rate,”

“If anyone’s to break her, it’s the captain.” Snickered his companion, taking a swig of his drink. “No doubt he’ll be doing this all night, haven’t seen hind or hair of ‘im since they took her to the lower dungeon.”

That was all Tarric needed to hear, and he moved away from the soldiers towards the other fork in the hall. Taking it, he found a set of stairs heading downwards into a torch lit corridor that ended in a door, but along the walls he could see barred cells. Tarric frantically searched each one, but found nothing inside them. He was just about to try the door, when he saw a tiny shaft of light peeking through the stones in the bottom of one of the cells. He jiggled the gate to the cell and realized it was loose, unlocked. Tarric swung it inwards and shut it quietly when he investigated the stones, to find that many of them were loose and falling apart.

 _This place really is falling apart._ He cleared away the rubble gently to find that they opened into another chamber below. Tarric found he could make a reasonably sized hole to crawl through that brought him down onto the rafters of a new corridor.

After about an hour of searching, climbing around the beams of the ceiling and peering into rooms that were practically devoid of life, Tarric began to have a sinking feeling. The location could be wrong, though he doubted Brynjolf’s information was off at all. Tarric was about to turn around to find Ragnar, when he heard a very faint, very horrific, screaming.

It echoed from further down the hallways, and he zeroed in on it. Following the sound he headed down a flight of steps, keeping above them in the rafters, and to a room that was dimly lit by a fire. The room was filled with all manner of torture devices, weapons and poisons. It made Tarric cringe when he looked them over, imagining what horrible pains these items could inflict upon a person.

That was when he heard the sound of leather on skin, a sharp crack that made his ears sting and his hair stand on end. A whip. It was followed by another scream that he could almost recognize, and Tarric moved along the rafters towards the next room. Looking down into the chamber from the shadows, he found her.

Trussed up by her wrists like an animal, Aria stood on the tips of her toes in pain when she jerked at the sting of the lash. Her body stripped bare of any clothing, skin pale in the light of the torches. Her hair was the colour of blood, tousled and messy, hanging in front of her face while she shook. Dirty and bloody, Aria looked like she had been dragged through the wilderness by a dragon and dumped down a pit scattered with broken glass. Tarric’s heart wrenched when he saw that her hands were trembling and clenched together in a vain attempt to keep the pain at bay.

Behind her stood his former commander, fully clothed and holding a triple-tailed whip in one hand. A look of sheer glee covered the man’s face and he went to the table to take a quick swig of a tankard he had sitting there, Aria made no other movement, for she couldn’t.

The man grinned when he returned, “You know, I almost had this much fun with your brother. What was his name now? Eric? Heinric? Ah yes… Alrik, I remember now,” Aria jerked ever so slightly against the restraints, Tarric could hear the very faint whimpers from her as she tried to breathe calmly. The commander rested the whip against her back and she jumped, “He took a lot less time to break than you, however. You’re a tough one I’ll give you that. He was already dying when we brought him in, but no matter, you’ve got far more things to offer than he did now don’t you?” letting the leather whip slide down her lean waist to her hips, Aria’s muscles contracted to be as tight as possible and avoid any reaction. The commander grinned, letting the whip slide a little lower while she jolted again. “I think I’ll take that as a yes. Heard that you got caught in Windhelm, they almost got this close. Seems I’ve got the special _touch_ now don’t I?”

She couldn’t even speak the normal venom that Tarric knew her for; Aria’s eyes were glassy and unfocused. Her lips were pursed tightly and he could tell she was barely holding herself together, every ounce of energy she had was being siphoned into resistance, and she was failing.

As Tarric looked for a way down to save her, the commander went on. “Looks like I get the complete set now: the brother of a thief, and the master of thieves. Or should I call you the _bitch_ of thieves?” He muttered in her ear, Aria turned her head away with a yank. Apparently not enjoying the reaction, the commander growled and grabbed her waist, pulling her roughly against him and earning a short bark of alarm. Instantly her breathing accelerated and she went still as a statue, the man jerked her up against him with a hand between her legs and she cried.

That was when Tarric lost it. 

Without another thought he flew from the ceiling and onto the man with a yell, avoiding Aria he tackled his former commander to the ground. Sending them sprawling across the floor, Tarric heaved himself up and regained his footing as quickly as possible. He placed himself between Aria and his commander and held his sword aloft, waiting as the man recovered.

“You try to touch her again and I’ll run you through!” green eyes sparking, Tarric watched the man haul to his feet once more and wipe a smear of blood from his mouth.

A smile crossed the man’s face, “Well look here, our little pup has come all this way to play as well. Didn’t know I would get to flay _two_ thieves tonight!” he suddenly threw himself at Tarric, a sword pulled from his hip and meeting his in a clash of sparks. Tarric parried and ducked to avoid the attacks, always keeping himself between the commander and Aria. 

He exchanged no words, instead just fought, letting loose all of his frustration on the man. Tarric started to grow cold and calculative with his attacks, focusing on nothing more than slashing the man who hurt Aria, wanting nothing more than to cut him to ribbons. Using his anger to his advantage, Tarric’s blows became hard and precise, instead of furious and sloppy. He knew in the back of his mind that if he let his anger get the better of him, he would indefinitely lose and they would both die. Instead, Tarric pushed the man back and into a corner, back to where he had seen the poisons and the instruments from before.

The commander was not weak, however, and it was everything Tarric could do to keep his attacks from mortally wounding him. His strength and brutality would far outmatch Tarric if he didn’t think quickly, and he was trying his best. In the raucous, Tarric managed to grab hold of the table of instruments and flip it, sending all of the contents flying. The commander blocked a few missiles by slashing them with his blade, but Tarric had ducked behind the table and the man couldn’t see him. Working fast and using the confusion, Tarric raced around and slashed at the man, cutting his bare upper arm but not managing a fatal blow. The man snarled and resumed his previous attack on Tarric, who climbed back over the table when he realized that his attempt at surprise didn’t work. But Tarric’s sword caught in the table and he was wrenched backwards for a sickening moment, surprise caught in his own face when the commander had his sword raised to cleave Tarric in half.

That was the precise moment that the commander’s arm seized. His sword stopped in midair, then dropped to clatter loudly on the floor. Looking up, Tarric saw a look of sheer, utter horror pass over the man’s face when he looked to his cut arm and saw tendrils of black-green spreading rapidly under his skin. The man looked from it, then to Tarric, and saw that the tip and edge of the other’s sword was dripping with a dark green solution.

Tarric savored the sickly sweet time it took for the thought and realization to settle in, before the former commander fell to his knees and began to convulse on the floor with the effects of the poison. The younger wrenched his sword from the table and stepped around to stand above the man, green eyes still sparking.

“I said I would run you through.” And he stuck his sword through the man’s gullet. 

It wasn’t until the slow gurgle of the man died that Tarric regained his normal semblance of self. Shaking his head to clear it, Tarric spun and raced into the other room again. Aria looked up and he saw a look of shock, but mostly relief, flood her face when he approached. Yet she tried to pull away when he made to touch her and he stopped, before moving carefully and slowly to touch her wrists. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he affirmed, breaking the bonds that held her wrists above her head. Aria collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll, unable to keep herself supported after spending so long raised the way she had been. He knelt beside her and gently lifted her into a sitting position, giving Aria a chance to cover herself.

Instead she shivered and held her arms out to regain the circulation, before she turned her gaze to his. She shook her head, her eyes nearly brimming with tears, before she bent forward, and buried her face in his chest.

“I know now…” and with that she leaned up and gave him a gentle, weak kiss on the mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man it took me so long to write this chapter... I'm sorry things have been so dead everyone! This summer kinda blew up in my face the moment I got home from finals... and seriously did it EVER blow up.
> 
> But, I'm still planning on working on Rat's Gold, along with my other fanfics!!! xD So I will be ultra slow with updates, but rest-assured they ARE coming!! And this story will be done (eventually)


	21. Door to the Dark

The snow had started around mid-morning, and hadn’t let up at all throughout the day while they traveled. The saddle leather creaked and groaned when the wind picked up and whenever the horses shifted in their stride, yet the sound was lost whenever the wind grew too wild. It howled and raged down the sides of the mountains, and trapped the two travellers on the road between them in a swirling chaos of snow, slowing down their travel significantly.

Ragnar hadn’t appeared at all since they had fled the fort, and Tarric begrudgingly had to abandon the rabbit before the rest of the guards found out what had happened below. They had fled rather easily since the rest of the fort had been in utter chaos, apparently the fire had spread faster than Tarric had predicted and it had provided the perfect cloak for their escape. Yet ever since the escape, Aria had stayed reserved and silent, though they had been traveling for a week or so since. Tarric had seen what his old commander had done to her, but only fragments of it. He wanted to comfort her, but knew that even in this state, possibly even more so than usual, she could be at her most dangerous. Like a wounded boar, she could probably do more damage than normal when she was in such a state. Whenever he did catch a glimpse of her face, or what he could see beyond the mask, her eyes were hard and distant, though they frightened him somewhat.

But still he worried, the way she had withdrawn wasn’t like her, and Tarric had been with her long enough to know some, or most of her personality. She was reserved most of the time, but the way she was now was just plain reclusive. Every time Tarric tried to start a conversation with her, she would pull back even more and he would only ever get two, maybe three words out of her. He turned in the saddle, his own cloak pulled around his head to keep out as much of the cold as possible, though it wasn’t really enough. She was riding behind him, her shoulders hunched to the wind and her head barely raised. She looked defeated, which didn’t surprise him, knowing some of what happened.

Tarric let out a sigh that was snatched by the wind, before he brought his horse to a slower walk and fell in next to her. “It’s almost sundown, there’s a cave ahead that I sheltered in the last time I was here, we’ll make for that.” She just nodded silently at this, and Tarric frowned. Riding ahead, he scanned the side of the cliffs for the telltale indent of a cave, mostly to distract himself from the worry he felt pooling in his stomach. 

They made camp when he found the cave, moving in and out of the wind and brushing off the snow that was caked on their clothes and the horses. Tarric got a fire started with what little wood they had brought from their last campsite, and started to cook a meager meal for the both of them. Aria merely unrolled her sleeping roll and sat on it, rolling the journal between her hands but not really looking at it. The night progressed in silence from there, even when Tarric finished cooking and brought over a bowl of soup for her, she remained silent despite putting the journal down and taking the bowl instead.

The only sound between them was the minimal crackle of the fire and the howl of the wind at the cave entrance. Unfortunately it was a shallow cave, so the wind could blow snow in every now and then, but fortunately it was deep enough that no animal would make its home in it, and the snow didn’t reach far enough to truly bother them. Yet the silence was driving Tarric crazy, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, but something was different and it unnerved him.

Finally, Tarric had had enough and he put down his finished bowl with a loud clatter, startling Aria. He stared at her, he had never really been able to startle her with merely a sound. She looked up, then looked down again, and he ground his teeth.

“Okay that’s it, what’s wrong?” his voice cut the silence and sounded foreign to him, after being quiet for so long. When Aria didn’t reply, he growled and got up, sitting beside her and turning her to face him, something his past self would never have done unless he had a death wish. She flinched, and he glared at her, “Look I know something’s bothering you, tell me before I toss you into the snow to wake you up from whatever void you’ve fallen into!”

“There’s nothing to say,” four words, he was at least making _some_ progress.

Tarric wouldn’t accept it, “Oh there isn’t, is there? Ever since the fort you’ve been shut up, and not acting like yourself. Don’t you say this is normal because I think I’ve known you long enough to know what normal is!” She gaped at him, as much as she could with only her eyes showing beyond the mask. Again she said nothing to him, except quietly avert her gaze again, clearly finding the floor more interesting. “Honestly? We’re going to keep doing this?” he tossed his arms into the air and she flinched, again.

“I’m fine, Tarric,”

“No. No you’re not, you stubborn idiot! I would strangle you right now if it would bring you back to your regular self! But that would just make things worse so I’m going to resort to yelling at you instead!” he glared at her, “Now explain yourself before I start throwing the bowls around, because you’re driving me _insane.”_

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it Tarric,” she growled, sounding a little more normal than usual.

He pulled back, before deciding he would push further, “Well, that’s the second time you’ve said my name in less than a day, you must have gone insane,”

A spark, though faint, lit in her gaze, “I am not insane, now drop it Tarric,”

“Three times! Must be a special day, especially since you’re saying at least twenty words to me, that’s more than the past week!” he leaned back on his mat, stretching his legs to the fire and ignoring the rage that he could feel was building on his shoulder to his left.

“You idiot dog! Drop it alright?” 

He shrugged, “Twenty six, must be nearing the end of the world though the snow is a dead giveaway,”

“Tarric I mean it,” she warned.

“No. I will not drop it!” he rounded on her, “You’ve been closed off for weeks and I want to know why? You said you forgave me, but I’m still being punished. What else have I done to you? I broke you out of prison; I’m going with you to help you get this treasure! I want to see this to the end and you’re treating me like you don’t care either way what happens? Aria I love you but you drive me crazy! What did I do to—”

“You didn’t do anything!” she snapped, whipping her mask off and flinging it at his face. It hit Tarric in the temple and made him recoil and fall onto his back.

Sitting back up and clutching her mask in hand, as well as a sore welt on his head, Tarric growled, “What was that for?”

“To shut your howling screamer! I can’t listen to you whine like this! Thank you for breaking me out, but I can’t have what happened to my brother happen to you too!” she froze, the words just pouring from her mouth until she realized what she had said, then she sat back and stared into the void in front of her. 

“Your brother?” when she only nodded, Tarric let out a loud sigh. “Aria, really I don’t care what happened in your past. It’s in the damn past,” he looked to her and realized that she had withdrawn again. 

He scooted over to sit next to her, but made no other move to touch her. She nodded to his words, “He died to protect me when we tried to steal the a scroll that told us about the treasure in the first place, a few years ago. That was when we found out we needed something else to find it and I thought he had died for nothing. I don’t want to have more of that kind of blood on my hands,” Aria tucked her legs up to her chest, holding them to her with her arms. Her hood had fallen from her head, and her hair was tousled and messy.

“Really? You think I’m not able to take care of myself?” she didn’t respond to him and Tarric tilted his head back and groaned in exasperation, “Aria, your brother made a choice. You may not have liked that choice, but it was his decision that he had to protect you over him. Unless you have some magical way of keeping me locked up, and I _really_ hope you don’t, then you’re stuck with me until we see this quest to its end. I understood the risks in staying with you, and if I didn’t then I would not have broken you out of prison and killed the only man who could have reinstated me.” The fire dimmed a little when the wind gusted into the cave, though it didn’t go out. The flames jumped back again when the wind died down to a quiet wail outside, and the warmth of the cave returned.

“What about your old life?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want the old life I had before, it was boring compared to this one. If you’ll let me stick around?”

“You don’t… want to go back?”

“Like I said, I killed my old commander and he was the only one who could have given me back that life. Besides, there was nothing there after my sister died, I just never saw it,” Tarric ran a hand through his hair, leaning back on the heels of his hands and rocking a little before he glanced to her. “Come on, get some sleep. We don’t have to go much farther tomorrow to the grotto, but rest would be ideal just incase. You never know what we could find in a cave like that, remember the troll cave?” they both scoffed lightly, before they wrapped themselves in their cloaks and laid down to rest. The quiet of the cave was almost oppressive, but Tarric felt strangely comforted by the whistle of the wind outside and the very faint, dying crackle of the fire.

He was just beginning to drop off to sleep when he felt something press to his back. Tarric froze and looked over his shoulder to see Aria resting her own back against his, he was about to make a comment when she shifted. “Don’t speak. Just go to sleep, dog.”

A smile tugged at his mouth, and Tarric hummed a response while he closed his eyes and finally slept.

 

* * *

 

“Well at least the snow stopped, mostly…” Tarric tightened the girth strap on his horse’s middle, patting the shaggy animal while he turned to face Aria.

She was busying herself with packing her saddlebags and tying her sleeping roll to the back of the saddle. “Really, I don’t like all of this cold, it’s ridiculous. Besides aren’t we close to the first key piece cave? Maybe we should have done _that_ one last!”

Tarric shook his head, “Well we’ll probably be underground when we get to this ‘door’ that the book describes,”

“Hopefully, I don’t like all the sun either,” she hauled her body up into the saddle, the fresh snow crunching beneath her mount’s hooves while it shifted under her weight.

“What, rats don’t like the snow? There’s a surprise!” he walked past her to get his own roll to tie it up and she kicked his shoulder while he passed. Tarric yelped and flinched away from her, but was still smiling when he moved away. Aria had her mask on again, but he could tell she was smiling underneath it, her eyes were brighter and the gloom that had been hanging over them for the past few weeks was finally letting up.

A sound then caught Tarric’s attention, off to his right in the sparse bushes that populated the side of the mountain by the cave entrance. Tarric tensed and he had his hand ready on the pommel of his sword, and even Aria tensed behind him as he slowly approached the bushes. Tarric’s breath slowed and he barely breathed at all while his eyes trained on the bushes, waiting for whatever was hiding itself to appear from the snow and leaves.

Moments later a small, brown, spotted body emerged from the snow. Two fuzzy, long ears perked up and Tarric could see the familiar, twitchy whiskers wiggling the snow off of them. His eyes lit up as he saw the little rabbit and Tarric let out a yell, “Ragnar!” he scooped the rabbit into his arms and shoved his face into the ruffled fur. Aria twisted in her saddle to see what was going on, and Tarric ran up to her, “Look! He found us!” he held the rabbit out to her. 

Aria regarded the small animal, his messy fur showed that he had been through a lot, but the rabbit twitched his nose and seemed to smile at her tiredly. Aria felt a smile appear at her mouth, she reached over and scratched between Ragnar’s ears. “Welcome back, supper.”

 

* * *

 

The grotto loomed before them: a deep, yawning cavern down below their feet, an ice-cold waterfall hissing from a hidden crack in the wall. The water flowed around the rock and vanished down into the grotto, into the dark and out of sight. Aria and Tarric had left the horses further back, so they wouldn’t go sliding down the steep slope.

“This is it, just as creepy as the last time I saw it…” Tarric shifted Ragnar onto his shoulder, the rabbit snuggling against his neck for warmth in the cold air, which made Tarric grin.

Aria glanced over to him, a furrow in her brow making the tattoo on her eye wrinkle, “Why were you _here_ of all places?”

He grinned, “Eh, it was on my way back from a training exercise, I got lost for a day and found this place. It was the middle of the night the last time I found it so it was far creepier then, but it still chills my blood to see it again,”

“Don’t get scared on me now doggy, we still have a treasure to find so don’t tuck your tail between your legs just yet.” She fixed her mask and squared her shoulders while he shot her an indignant look, “Lets go get rich!” that said, they began their descent down into the grotto. The sound of the water over the rocks hissed through the whole cave, and the air grew wetter with the mist from the waterfall, it wasn’t long before Aria and Tarric were shaking from the cold as it soaked their clothing. The light grew dimmer and darker the further they went, and Tarric had to pick his way along the bank carefully in order not to slip and fall into the freezing water.

As they entered a deep crag in the wall of rock where the water disappeared, the air began to smell strongly of wet rock and dead grass, and though the smell wasn’t heavy, it was still very noticeable. Tarric followed the dark figure before him, and began to wonder why he was able to see Aria when they were heading further underground. That was when he looked up and saw that far above them, the rock had split into a kind of thin trench in the mountain, allowing some light to filter down to the passage below. He marveled at it while he moved, but his foot slipped on a rock and he nearly stumbled, earning a raised-eyebrow look from Aria, and then they continued on. 

The ground sloped down beneath their feet and it dipped into the dark, before rising again and dipping once more, twisting and turning through the craggy recess. Tarric was starting to feel the press of the walls as they drew closer, until he was sure if he stretched out his arms his fingertips would brush the stone. The light became increasingly dimmer and he squinted to see Aria’s figure in front of him.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” he said to her, keeping his voice low. Somehow he felt that if he spoke too loudly, then something bad would definitely happen.

“I’m a _rat_ remember? Good eyes when it comes to the dark,” she tapped her head and looked back at him with a laugh, “I thought dogs were supposed to have good eyesight in the dark too?” 

He huffed indignantly, “Not all dogs…”

“Oh wait I’m sorry, I have the only crippled dog in the entire world. How’s your nose work?” she scoffed. 

“Shut up.” He pushed her forward and she continued to snort as they picked through the passage. The rocky floor soon smoothed out to carved stone, at least from what Tarric could tell. Ahead he could see a drop in the floor, and when they approached it he realized, in the minimal light, that it was a staircase. At the base of the stairs, a brighter stream of light illuminated a familiar, dreadful golden door. 

“I guess I should have been prepared for this to be a Dwemer ruin…” he sighed, looking at the giant, looming door when they got to the base of the stairs. Ragnar shifted uncomfortably under his hood, poking his head out to sniff around the air.

Aria tilted her head, “True, all of the key pieces and the caves and chambers we’ve been too have had something dwarven in them. I’m surprised you didn’t put two-and-two together, am I going to have to get myself a new riddle-solver?” her eyes smiled at him. 

“Lets just get going,” he shook his head, but shot her a grin when he stepped forward to open the door. Yet a second later he felt her hand on his shoulder, pulling him backwards.

“You do remember that the Dwemer had a habit of trapping their doors?” she tilted her head and raised her brow pointedly. “Maybe let the expert do this first.” Pushing him with a gentle nudge to the side, she started to inspect the door. Seeing as he wasn’t needed, Tarric sat on a fallen boulder nearby and Ragnar slid into his lap for attention while they waited. He rubbed the rabbit’s ears and watched Aria, she moved around the door, tapping and inspecting here and there for tripwires or buttons.

Tarric leaned his head on one of his hands, “Aria?” his voice caused her to look up from her work, looking over to him. He smiled when she gave him a frown, “I love you,” 

She rolled her eyes, “Tarric, not really the best place or time for this kind of thing.” He merely shrugged and laughed, because he could tell that it had affected her, her movements slowed a little and she was far more careful than earlier. He liked how she reacted to it, despite how minimal it was.

“Aha!” her shout made him and Ragnar jump, the rabbit leaping into his arms while Tarric sat up rigid. Aria raised a finger for them to be quiet, and she pointed down to a taught chord that was hidden out of sight of the main door. She whipped out a knife and cut the tripwire, and on the other side of the door they heard a loud bang and the golden entryway shuddered. Ragnar and Tarric jumped again at the sound, while Aria leaned against the door and pushed it inwards. When the gold doors opened, they saw a long metal blade hanging down uselessly between the doors. Tarric’s eyes widened and he noticed that the doors were slightly dented from the impact, and thought that it probably would have been him ‘dented’ if Aria hadn’t found the tripwire.

“And this is why I love you,” he turned to her, “I could kiss you right now,” she bowed mockingly but pushed him back when he held out his arms and came closer to her.

“Not now doggy, we have to keep going. Get rich first, kiss later. As long as I don’t kill you first,” she smirked through her eyes, then the both of the pressed on through the chamber.

The chamber itself was circular, dome shaped with a single light source filtering in through the top and onto another, smaller circular plate in the floor. The light was dim, so Tarric guessed it was still only mid-morning, though the sun would soon reach its zenith. All around the walls were reliefs and carvings that matched those in all of the key-piece caves. Yet these were a little different, these carvings and murals felt older, and were far more detailed than before. Tarric approached the relief in the center of the wall, another depiction of the snow-elf prince. His face was smooth and his expression stern and calm. In his hand he still held something that the relief described as ‘heart’ or ‘perfect’ or something like that. He was still unfamiliar with a lot of the falmer language so he wasn’t entirely sure.

“This is weird… it’s appeared so often in all the caves, do you know what it is?” Aria appeared at his side, studying the snow-elf prince as well. 

Tarric shook his head, “It only says ‘heart’ there are allusions to ‘perfect’ as well, but I still have no idea what exactly it means. Maybe it’s a perfect gemstone?” he put a hand to his chin, thinking long and hard. From what he could see, this was the only chamber in here, no other doorways or entrances were presenting themselves. 

“Well if _that’s_ the case, then we should grab it!” she grinned before moving around the room. “How in the world are we supposed to get to it though? There aren’t any doors in here, except this blasted skylight,” she voiced Tarric’s inner observations and he moved to stand beneath the skylight.

“Remember, all of the other places were puzzles… I’m guessing that this whole room is another puzzle,” as he stopped pacing, his foot brushed against something and he nearly tripped. Regaining his balance, Tarric glared down at what tripped him, but he saw that the circular part of the floor was covered in spiraling runes that moved further to the center. “Hold it! There’s a riddle here!” Aria let out a frustrated groan and tilted her head backwards.

“What is _with_ these damn elves and their _riddles?_ ” she snarled and marched to his side. “It’s like they enjoy torturing me from beyond their musty, dust-infested graves!” Tarric just shook his head and observed the riddle, while Aria brought out the journal and translated it. 

 

_“A golden treasure that never stays,_

_and the coin whose face gives light to the days._

_Strands, nuggets, and dust of gold…_

_All more precious am I, than the wealth of old.”_

 

Aria was prepared for a long-winded wait and discussion as Tarric tried to figure it out, but he merely smiled and looked up. “What is more precious than gold, Aria?” he glanced to her as he stared up at the skylight.

“I don’t know, jewels? Food?” she shrugged for the second time and Tarric shook his head.

"Of course you would think of jewels first..."

She smirked, "Not my fault it's what my life revolves around."

"Maybe you need to check your priorities...?"

She growled, "Oh shut up. What is it?" 

“The _sun!”_ he said, just as the sun reached midday and shone directly through the skylight, bathing him in warm, golden light. After a second he stepped aside, allowing the beam of light to illuminate the circular floor that they stood on. The room remained silent, but both of them observed as a tiny hole appeared in the dead center of the floor, and it was the exact shape of a keyhole. Aria gaped at it, then at Tarric as he produced the key from his jerkin, and spun it in his fingers with a flourish. He watched Aria roll her eyes while he fitted the key into the slot and turned, and then they waited.

Suddenly they heard a loud _click!_ And the floor shuddered. Tarric removed the key and pulled Aria onto the floor as the circular part shuddered and began to descend. They soon left the first chamber behind, and were plunged into the dark, “I hope you’re good at sniffing, doggy, because I’m guessing things are going to get darker from here on out.”

They had found the road that would take them straight to the treasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but this chapter took a lot of work hahaha! I'm still getting better at dialogue so I've had to think over most of the conversations between these two. I'm so excited now! PART TWO STARTS!
> 
> We're on our way to the treasure, now these two have to face the ruins xD


	22. Puzzle River

Darkness stretched far before them, spreading out in almost every direction. Even the sound of their breath echoed throughout the room, and that told Aria that they were in yet another kind of chamber. The only source of light was not even from in front of them; they were too far down for any light from the surface to reach them. No, the light was coming, very dimly, from in front of them.

Ahead, Aria felt the air change as she stepped off the platform very carefully. She could feel the ground slope down beneath her boots, and the dust-covered floor grit under her heels with a lot more noise than she would have liked. Tarric’s breathing next to her felt like the shriek of a grindstone, and she could hear Ragnar ruffling Tarric’s jerkin with his claws could have woken the dead. The silence was absolute and she merely stepped forward instead of saying a word to Tarric, who followed instinctively by now. 

Thankfully though, the silence started to dissipate when they approached the glow up ahead, and even the air started to change as they neared the bottom of the slope. The dichotomy of the cool, subterranean air at her back, and the warmth at her front made her skin dimple and shudder. The soft hum and the light ahead seemed to be coming from a massive, metal and stone chandelier that hung from the center of what appeared to be a large foyer. Everything was covered in a thick layer of rock dust that clouded and grit beneath their boots as they entered the room. Any sounds they made were like screaming ghosts in a place that had been so silent for thousands of years, Aria couldn’t shake the feeling of the stone pressing down on them, and the fact that they truly were in a different world down in the earth. She glanced from side to side, beneath the chandelier were three separate doorways: one led straight forward into blackness, and the other two on the right and left led to equal darkness.

She judged the feel of the air at the entrances of each archway against her forehead, but there wasn’t anything coming from either the center or left. The right, though, smelled slightly damp and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad at this moment. She knew that ruins and temples like these could house some horribly cruel traps that could, more than likely, sever a few limbs if they weren’t careful. She turned to see Tarric poking about and looking curiously at the runes on the walls nearby, studying them carefully despite not being able to fully read them.

“Be careful, it’s a Dwemer ruin,” she pointed out, her quiet voice cutting through the thick silence like a scream. “They have horrible traps set in place that still work, even after so many years,” 

Tarric nodded, “Yeah I know, I’ve heard the horror stories that come from travelers in the pubs and inns. Even heard of one guy who lost both of his limbs and had to get his buddy to bring him out.” 

“Well we’re talking about the fabled Treasure of Volund-Zel, of the lost Snow Elf Prince. Even amongst _thieves_ this treasure is known to be a death trap, I’m surprised we’ve even made it this far, and, though I’m confident in my skills as a thief, that still shocks me,” She saw Tarric throw he an offended, sarcastic look and she smiled beneath her mask, “Ah yes, and you’ve proven yourself to be quite useful,” 

He snorted, “You make me sound like a tool Aria, I thought we were—”

“Yes well, in this situation and circumstance, Tarric, you _are_ my tool in order to accomplish something my brother will never see to fruitition, and this venture originally was his idea.” She cut him off curtly and stood before the right doorway, “We’ll take this one, the air doesn’t smell as musty, I can smell water,” her cloak swished by her legs as she made to start down the dark tunnel, looking over her shoulder as she paused. “Are you coming?”

He growled and gruffly followed along after her, she knew that she had hurt him, but she didn’t have time for sentimentalities at the moment. Her senses were kicking in and her heart was beginning to race, a fierce gleam had appeared in her eyes that Tarric had never seen before. A thrill ran through her with each step, and she knew it well. It was the excitement of the job, the draw and pull of this kind of dangerous mission that had brought her to this line of work in the first place. Her thirst for riches was nothing compared to the lust of the hunt, figuring out how to get in, grab the goods and get out without being detected. She and her brother had stolen from tombs before, and though she hated riddles she loved the puzzles and the danger, the possibility of not being able to come back alive and instead being able to beat those odds and come away rich as an emperor. She licked her lips and felt a beastly, wild grimace spread across her face under her mask. Some part of her was glad that Tarric couldn’t see her face right now, because her senses and excitement was distorting it in a way that she hoped, silently in the back of her mind, that no one would ever see.

The ground underfoot sloped even further down, until it leveled off and she could not only smell water, but hear it as well. Oddly enough, the passage ahead grew lighter, until they found themselves standing in a dimly lit cavern that had not been carved by the former residents. Possibly it had been cultivated as an agricultural spot for mushrooms and earth-loving plants, because there were thick beds of all of them all around the edges of the room. Straight in front of them they could see a river flowing from a grate in one end of the wall, through a low stone crevice at the other end that was too small for any human to possibly fit through. The river was far too wide for either of them to jump, and it was too deep and fast-moving to wade through or swim.

“Maybe we should try the other two halls?” Tarric said from behind her. 

But something was calling her, and Aria shook her head as the tiny sound chimed in her consciousness. “No… look there’s a door over on the other side of this river,” she nodded to the archway and the stone path that seemed to lead straight to the river, through it, and over the other side to the door. “Look above it too, I can’t see it very well, but there’s a snow elf on top of it, and more falmer language marks,” she glanced to him, “Dwemer and falmer were still separate races, so I doubt they would blend _that_ much in culture. This area was built specifically by the snow elves.” She looked to the river, there were no signs of a possible bridge having been there before, it was like the river had just suddenly split the path one day and no one had bothered to build anything over it. Yet that wasn’t entirely true, for the grate on the source of the river confirmed that was clearly put there on purpose, and that the river had always been that way, something was odd about the entire setup. “There must be some kind of answer to this puzzle, we’ll probably have to lower the water level long enough to cross to the other side safely.

“Couldn’t we just jump in and swim over as it is?”

Aria shook her head, “You see that crevice?” she pointed down the river to where it vanished into the rock, “I’ll bet you anything there’s a gap _beneath_ the water that will suck you down beneath the rock. It’s probably just barely hidden beneath the water’s surface so thieves would think it’s safe, jump in, and end up in a very dark, cold, watery grave,” she grinned a little more, “talk about sadistic, I’ll have to take some pointers from these Dwemer the next time I lay traps around my house,” she almost trilled the thought, and she could see Tarric giving her an odd look out the side of her hood. 

“Come on, look for a lever or something that will help us stem the flow of water so we can cross,” she ordered, going about the cavern in order to hide her face from him.

            She looked up then, trying to spot any kind of object that could help them cross the river, and instead she was met with a glittering ceiling that looked like a belt of stars had been cut from the sky far above and trapped down beneath the earth in that small cavern. She suddenly realized the source of light in the room had come from the glowing, sparkling ceiling overhead and she marveled at it for a moment. She knew it was only glow worms, she had seen them with her brother on a trip beneath the earth once to infiltrate an old tomb to collect a large diamond, but they still took her breath away when she saw them.

             Yet Aria only had a moment to admire them before she felt a faint call again in the back of her head. The voice promised riches and wealth, and more gold that she could ever carry, and that made the corner of her mouth twitch again as she brought her gaze away from the dappled ceiling. 

            It was some time before Tarric called her over to him, and she had spotted what he was looking at. A large block was sitting, hidden, just out of sight near the grate. What he had also noticed was that the earth was far flatter around the block, and leading up to the water from where it rested. She followed the flattened ground and looked over the edge of the rushing water, to see a square space very faintly beneath the rapids. 

            “And this is why I have you,” she said gleefully, “Come on, we need to push that block over here, it’ll stem the flow of the water and we’ll be able to jump across it to the other side,” she rushed to the alcove the block was resting in and started to push it, but it was far too heavy for her to push on her own and she shot Tarric an impatient look when she saw that he wasn’t coming to help her. Instead he was just standing, staring at her with a worried look on his face, “Well? What are you waiting for, next winter? Help me push this blasted thing!”

            Tarric sighed then and came over to stand beside her, his shoulders in line with hers and his palms on the surface of the block with hers. Aria nodded and they started to push without another word, the block grating and scraping against the rock and earth while they moved it closer and closer to the water. They turned about once they had it out of the alcove, and shoved it to the edge of the river, a few seconds later the heavy block teetered on the very lip of the water, and with one final shove it fell in with a mighty splash. Sinking down to the square shape beneath the water, the two of them heard a deep click and a horrible shrieking sound as a thicker grate slid down over the mouth of the river. Aria practically laughed out loud when she saw it, and the water level dropped significantly to reveal the top of the block they had just pushed in.

            Now they could cross! She could jump across and grab the other side of the river, and continue on to find the treasure! Aria’s eyes sparked, and she stepped onto the block and jumped, without even giving Tarric another glance. She did exactly what her mind told her and leapt like a cat, gripping the edge of the river on the opposite bank and flipping herself onto the other side.

            She knew he would follow, so she walked towards the doorway to look at the runes, curious as to what they would show this time. There were no riddles here, the writing wasn’t the same as that of the key piece resting places, and it was different here. At the very top of the archway she saw a small carving of the snow elf prince holding whatever it was he was holding again, and she growled to herself when she didn’t know what it was.

            Aria was just about to yell at Tarric to tell him to hurry up when she heard a sickening slipping sound and a curse, followed by a splash. Whirling around she saw that Tarric had fallen into the river, and that it was still deep since he was struggling to keep above the water. He was quickly being swept down towards the crevice, which now she could clearly see the dark chasm, which hadn’t been visible before. A horrible sinking feeling fell in her gut and, without thinking much about anything except Tarric, she rushed ahead of him and grabbed a nearby root that was growing out of the wall. All thoughts of the treasure suddenly gone, and with some strength, she wrenched it free enough to lower it to the water for Tarric to grab, her heart pounding in her ears while she did. 

            “Grab it! I can’t reach down there with my arms!” she shouted at Tarric as he swept even closer and closer to that crevice. He was clinging to the side of the river a little bit past her lowered root, if he wanted to make it out he would have to risk striking out into the current and swimming for the root. It was either that, or die from the cold and end up swept into the crevice anyways.

            Tarric stared at her and they locked eyes, he looked afraid, but angry at the same time, distrustful even, as if he thought she would let him be sucked down to his death over a bit of treasure. A younger Aria probably would have, but she growled and spat at him, “Tarric if you don’t grab this I’m coming in after you! Or I’ll kill you from here with a knife!”

            That being said, he ground his teeth and struck out from the wall, swimming with every ounce of energy he had against the fast current. For some sickening seconds she thought for sure that he was going to lose and be lost, her imagination twisting reality until she thought that was what was happening. She could hear the call of the gold in the back of her mind, but for some reason it didn’t matter so much anymore and she could feel a burning sensation in her eyes that annoyed her and frightened her.

            It wasn’t until she felt the cold slap of a hand in hers that she was brought back to the present, and she saw Tarric desperately clinging to the root and reaching for her gloved palm. Instantly she tightened her grip and hauled him, and the root, from the icy water with all of her strength she could muster. Tarric landed on her side of the river, both of them panting and him completely sopping wet. He laid back against the stone, eyes wide and body trembling, not only from the cold. 

            “For—a moment—I thought—you were leaving me,” he panted, letting his head tilt to the side and she smiled a little.

            “I still need my doggy, don’t I?” 

            He caught his breath and sat up, “You’re acting—different,” he observed with a frown. 

            “How so?” 

            Tilting his head to the side in a matter-of-fact way, the man sighed and laughed breathlessly, “Seriously? That treasure is all you can think about isn’t it?” 

            “Is it that obvious?”

            “Yes,” it wasn’t even a question at this point, and Aria knew she had been acting short with him ever since they had gotten to the ruins.

            It was her turn to sigh as she rolled up onto her feet, offering him a hand, “Occupational hazard, Tarric. Thieves tend to get excited when treasure is involved, and this is a _lot_ of treasure,” 

            “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he laughed, taking her hand as they both moved to the doorway together.

His words bothered her somehow, he thought there would be a next time? That they would go on more journeys like this, that they would spend more time together? It had been a nagging worry in the back of her mind for a while, ever since he had confessed to her really, and she hadn’t truly thought that he would really want to stay with her, let alone become a thief too. Yet here he was, planning for a next time and more journeys together once they were out of all of this. For some reason that thought brought a smile to her face, and Aria couldn’t help but feel that same burn in her eyes return when she looked at him. It took her a while before she was able to swallow the sensation and talk again, but the both of them were happy enough with the pleasant, mutually respectful silence between them.

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW... took a while to get this chapter up and running, what with finals and production getting in my way xD BUT HERE IT IS GUYS~ We're getting closer to that treasure!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... my first crack at a crazy detailed fanfic...  
> DON'T KILL ME...  
> I'm sure this has been done before, but really I wanted to try it~
> 
> This is based upon my actual character from Skyrim, though she is not the dragonborn. I'd rather her just be really good at what she does, instead of having magical powers.
> 
> My tumblr~ (I have some art with Aria in it already~) http://arianwen44.tumblr.com


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